


Silent Night

by Elsey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mute!Cas, Surrogacy, dean/cas married, jess is surrogate mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-03-03 02:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey/pseuds/Elsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak have been married for two years when they decide that they want to have their first child via surrogate. When Dean's brother Sam's fiancee Jess says she'll be the surrogate, the two are overjoyed and work on having the baby right away. Now, nineteen weeks into the pregnancy, things are going well for the small family as they continue to deal with life while expecting a new baby in their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A family all their own

Dean remembers the day that he met Castiel Novak. It was the Monday before finals, a 7am mythology class, and everyone was so frazzled that seating arrangements didn’t even matter anymore. Dean had practically dragged himself through the door and collapsed next to Castiel, setting his coffee on the desk and running a hand down his face before he reached into bag and pulled a Monster out. He took the lid off of the coffee, pouring the entire drink into the cup and raising it to his lips. He said “I’m going to die,” before he chugged the drink and continued to take gasping breaths until he finished before he let out a loud “ _Fuck_ ” and slammed his head on the desk, moaning loudly.

Castiel later told him on their one year anniversary that he knew immediately that Dean would be the man he married.

And that they did, six years later on a hot August evening amongst their friends and family. Well, mostly Castiel’s family, but they brought an equal amount of friends to the wedding.

Now, after two years of marriage and careers and just _life_ Dean and Castiel find themselves sitting in a room staring at an ultrasound screen. It had been Castiel’s idea initially, getting a surrogate; he had mentioned it while they were still dating, and after he said it Dean hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his mind. It was on their first anniversary as a married couple that Dean mentioned the idea of kids again. Castiel jumped on it immediately. They were both at good jobs- Castiel as University English professor and Dean as a high school mechanics teacher. Well, Castiel’s job was excellent, and Dean loved and was good at his. Neither of them actually needed to take that mythology class way back then, but both agreed it was the best choice they made for their careers and their lives.

Dean wrung his hands together as the doctor moved the- the grocery store checkout whatever the fuck thingy over Jess’s stomach. When Castiel and Dean had said they wanted to have a baby, Jess had jumped at the opportunity to be the surrogate. Sam had proposed to Jess three days prior, which was why Dean and Castiel were at their house, and now, six months later, Castiel and Dean’s tiny human was approaching nineteen weeks old.

Castiel reaches over to take Dean’s hands in his own, trying to sooth him as much as he can. Dean knows he’s trying, but it just isn’t working. Dean nearly jumps out of his skin when Sam drops his hand onto Dean’s shoulder.

“Dude, relax,” Sam mumbles. Dean shoots him a glare and is about to mutter “bitch” before Castiel tugs at his hand, grinning towards the screen. Dean turns immediately, eyes wide as they shoot across the screen, trying to pinpoint the baby.

“Do you hear that?” the doctor, Sarah, asks. Jess is grinning at the two of them, craning her neck to see the baby for herself.

“What- what is that?” Dean asks, feeling like he’s talking after swallowing a mouth full of cotton balls.

 _The heartbeat_ , Castiel signs, Dean glancing quickly at his hands before he’s looking at the screen again. Dean had missed the previous ultrasounds, each time Jess only being free during the day when Dean was at work. It had only been two of them, but to Dean it was two times he missed seeing his child moving. They didn’t know whose it was, deciding to mix their sperm and have it be a surprise. The egg donor is a blond with brown eyes, and even though the little image is in black and white, Dean has a clear image of the kid already. A little blond baby, with bright blue eyes and fair skin. Dean snaps out of his head, focusing on Sarah as she moves the whatever the fuck the thing is called across Jess’s swollen stomach before it stops. Dean feels his jaw drop.

There it is. A tiny, grainy little blob, with little arms and little legs. And a tiny little head, the arms moving up above the head. Dean’s in total awe.

“Do you want to know the sex?” Sarah asks. Castiel signs _No_ as soon as Dean exclaims “Yes!” Sam hurriedly says no for Castiel, and Sarah looks at the two of them, waiting for an answer.

 _Do we really need to know? Is it that important for us? It’s not as if we’ll be raising the baby in strictly colour codes based on society’s gender roles_ , Cas signs hurriedly. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on! I just want to pick a name. Is it so much to ask?”

“As the woman carrying the baby,” Jess interrupts, “I’d really like to call it anything other than, well, _it_.” Dean smirks triumphantly at Cas, who rolls his eyes.

 _Fine,_ Cas signs. _But I get first dibs on the middle name._

“As long as we name him Goku, I really don’t care, Cas,” Dean tells him. He can practically _feel_ Sam rolling his eyes behind him, Cas mimicking it to near perfection.

 _Just tell us,_ Cas signs towards Sarah.

“He says he’s ready,” Dean tells her, eagerly moving closer to the ultrasound as if it would make a difference. Sarah clicks a few buttons, shifts the image, and turns to them with a smile.

“What do you think about little boys?” Sarah asks them.

“Oh my God,” Dean gasps, raising his hands to his mouth. “A boy? Really? A boy?” Castiel’s hands are covering his mouth, but his eyes show enough for Dean to know what he’s thinking.

“Congrats, man!” Sam exclaims, hugging Dean from behind.

“Damn, I read you wrong,” Sarah says. Jess, who looks like she’s trying to keep from doing a happy dance.

 _What do you mean?_ Cas signs quickly.

“It’s a girl, it’s just a little joke I try sometimes,” she says sheepishly.

“So… not a boy?” Dean asks cautiously. Sarah shakes her head. “A girl. We’re having a little girl. A little, tiny, perfect- Cas, we’re having a girl!” Before he can resist, Dean grabs Cas’s face, kissing him again and again. Sam coughs, but Dean just gives him the finger, kissing Cas once more before he turns to Jess, who is wiping her stomach off, wrapping her in a hug and squeezing her tight.

“Easy there, stud, don’t wanna pop the watermelon!” Jess tells him, pushing him back with a grin on her face. Soon Cas is there too, and then Sam, all of them having a massive group hug. Dean can hear Sarah clicking around on the screen just behind them, and he knows she’s printing a picture off for Dean and Cas, which is when Dean remembers he forgot to ask for a second one for Sam and Jess.

“Wait, Sarah, can you print two off?” Dean asks, struggling to get out of the group hug that’s enveloping him. She nods, not looking up as she continues typing. He feels Cas’s hand in his own, and turns to find Cas grinning at him.

“You two need to stop being so adorable,” Sam says, winking at Dean, who rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean mutters. Cas smacks his arm and Dean turns, confused.

 _Not in front of the baby,_ Cas signs.

“Wha- really? She’s a fetus, Cas! Oh my God. _She_. We’re having a _girl_. Oh my _God_!” Cas smils at him, placing his hand back in Dean’s and leaning in close, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

“Hey lover boys- you ready to blow this Popsicle stand? I’m craving a hamburger French fry sandwich,” Jess says, moving one arm to cross over her stomach and the other to wrap around Sam, who’s rubbing small circles in her back.

“Here you go, guys,” Sarah says, giving Dean two pictures, one of which he passes to Jess and the other he and Cas look at, grinning like the proud parents they are. With a final farewell to Sarah, the four of them leave the clinic. In the parking lot, Sam and Jess get in their (crappy) car, waving with promises to meet them at the nearest burger joint before Jess eats Sam’s secret stash of candy. Cas and Dean get in the Impala, the only thing that Dean’s father left him when he died, where Dean puts the picture of their tiny daughter up on the dashboard.

“Our daughter, Cas,” Dean murmurs, pulling him close and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. Cas smiles back, picking the picture up and looking at it as Dean shifts the car into gear, pulling out of the hospital parking lot. At a red light, Cas taps Dean’s arm and quickly signs _What are we going to do about a name?_ Dean snorts and says “We could always name her Samantha.” Cas rolls his eyes and Dean focuses on the road again as they speed down the street to The Roadhouse, Sam and Dean’s home away from home.

The brothers lost their mother in a fire when Dean was four and Sam just a baby, and only nine years later their father died from lung cancer. He had been fighting it since the fire, and Dean practically raised Sam until they were taken in by their dad’s best friends, Bobby and Ellen Singer, with Ellen’s little daughter Jo.

After they moved in with the Singers, life got easier. Dean never really let go of being like a parent to Sam, but he at least got to live his life rather than be in a hospital room, their dad unconscious and Dean spoon feeding Sam crappy hospital Jell-O.

When Dean left for school, he was a nervous wreck- what if something happened to Sam, what if there was a family emergency and he couldn’t get there on time? Was Sam getting to school? How was his second year of high school? He was only a state away, but it was far enough that it was a solid two hour drive, and gas prices were only getting higher.

The only thing that eased his mind was when he met Castiel. He had always dated both guys and girls growing up, something no one in his little family disapproved of, and so Cas was an easy fit into his life. It was hard at first- learning sign language and getting used to actually _dating_ someone rather than a random hook-up. When Dean found out Cas was mute, it didn’t affect his decision at all. Cas was Cas. At first he just thought Cas was quiet, but when he began signing to his friends and writing down all of his questions to hand a note to the teacher that first day, Dean caught on pretty quick.

It turned out Cas hadn’t been born unable to speak, but there was an accident when he was four, and he doesn’t remember beforehand anyways. Now, Cas works at an all deaf University, one of the only ones in the country. He was accepted immediately when they saw his credentials. Dean works at the local high school, and volunteers with the hearing and speech impaired kids as much as he can, as well as creating an after school club to teach kids how to sign. They’re a pretty great group of teenagers, mostly those who also volunteer to help with the kids with disabilities.

Dean pulls himself out of his thoughts as they park at The Roadhouse, getting out with Cas and bringing the picture along, since Ellen will of course insist on seeing the little girl. Sam and Jess’s car is already in the parking lot, so the two head inside right away, spotting Sam and Jess at their usual booth, Jess already eating her food while Sam waits patiently for what is likely a salad to arrive.

“Dean!” Ellen calls, leaving the back of the bar to come forwards and wrap her adopted son in a hug.

“Hey, Ellen,” Dean smiles, looking down at her as she pulls back with a frown.

“Need to get some meat on those bones, boy,” she says.

“Oh leave him alone, Ellen, he’s always been scrawny,” Bobby calls from the kitchen.

“Shut it, old man!” she yells teasingly.

“Whatever you say, darling,” Bobby grumbles. Dean grins throughout the entire exchange. He always loves visiting these two- they brighten his day with their grumpiness.

“So, what is it?” Ellen asks eagerly when Cas hands her the picture.

 _A girl_ , he signs. Ellen lets out what can only be defined as a squeal (but Dean knows she’ll punch him if he comments) and wraps the both of them in a hug.

“Sam wouldn’t tell me, and Jess couldn’t say much other than ‘cheeseburger’ when she walked in. Oh, boys, I’m so happy for the two of you!”

“So what is it?” Bobby asks, coming out from the back and wiping the grease off his hands. There are few people in the restaurant, and Jo just took the last order, quickly scurrying over to nab the ultrasound from her mother.

“A girl,” Dean tells both Jo and Bobby. Jo grins from ear to ear while Bobby claps him on the shoulder.

“Congrats, daddies,” Bobby tells them. “We’ll celebrate later- gotta keep working on the food.” With that, Bobby disappears back into the kitchen and Jo heads over to a table with a tray of water. Ellen sighs, still looking at the little picture.

“You know, the real thing is sitting right over there in our own personal incubator,” Dean tells her. Ellen rolls her eyes.

“I know, you dummy, but I can’t see the little hands and feet when I’m over there, now can I?”

“No ma’am,” Dean tells her, knowing better than to sass Ellen when she’s happy.

“Good boy. The usual for you both?” she asks, and Dean says “Yes” at the same time that Cas signs it. Ellen grudgingly hands the photo back before going to yell at Bobby. Dean and Cas head over to the table, Dean sitting beside Sam while Cas moves into the booth beside Jess, who is still working on her hamburger.

“I’m starting to wonder if it’s just a food baby,” Dean grumbles, getting a swift kick in the shins from Jess.

“Be nice to the carrier of your child,” she tells him with a mouthful of food.

“The love of my life,” Sam says wistfully. Jess rolls her eyes. “So. Names?”

 _Dean still wants Goku_ , Cas signs, and Dean can actually _see_ the annoyance and sarcasm in his hands.

“What? It’s a great name!” Dean insists. Cas and Jess roll their eyes at the same time while Sam snorts at Dean’s enthusiasm. “But seriously. What about that middle name, Cas? You never told me before, but you must’ve thought of it.”

 _I have been_ , Cas signs, leaving it at that when Sam’s salad arrives.

“So what is it?” Sam asks after he puts a mouthful of salad in his mouth.

“Don’t chew with your mouth full,” Jess says after shoving four fries in her mouth.

“Hypocrite,” Sam mutters. Jess tosses a fry at him and Sam eats it with a smile.

 _I have a name in mind, but I’m unsure how Dean will feel about it_ , Cas signs.

“Pfft,” Dean says, waving a hand before trying and failing to steal a fry from Jess, who looks downright murderous, causing Dean to move his hand away. “I’ll love it no matter what. Plus, we made a deal. No matter what you pick I’ll love it.” Cas smiles at him.

 _I was thinking of Ryleigh_ , Cas signs. Dean smiles at Castiel, feeling happier than when they found out the sex of the baby.

“I… I actually really like that,” Dean says, and Castiel beams. “Why don’t we make that her first name? Plus, it works for both sexes, just in case.” Castiel reaches across the table, taking Dean’s hands in his own and squeezing them before he moved them to start signing.

_Are you sure Dean?_

“I love it too,” Jess pipes up, Sam giving a thumbs up while he forked down more salad.

“Wait, did we just name her?”

 _I think so_ , Cas signs with a grin.

“What about a middle name?” Sam asks. “What with Ryleigh being decided. God, it’s so cute. And I love the spell, Cas.”

“I actually had an idea for a first name, but it would work for a middle name too,” Dean tells them quietly.

 _What is it?_ Cas signs.

“Maryellen.” Dean sees Sam’s entire face felt into a huge mixture of emotions. He reaches over and grabs Dean, wrapping his brother in a hug. “Jess- are you crying?”

“No!” Jess sobs, holding one hand over her mouth and waving them off with the other. “Stupid pregnancy hormones! This is all your fault!” Dean laughs, reaching across to take Jess’s hands and resisting the burning behind his own eyes.

“Ryleigh Maryellen Winchester-Novak,” Sam says, looking at the three people who were sitting around him and focusing on Jessica’s stomach. “She’s going to be lucky, you know.”

 _And don’t forget spoiled_ , Cas signs. Dean laughs, wiping at his eyes and hoping to God no one sees. Though when he looks back at Cas, he knows he saw.

“Ryleigh Maryellen Winchester-Novak. Poor kid’s gonna have a rough time trying to spell that,” Dean laughs. He reaches across the table, moving his hand across Jess’s stomach and smiling up at her. “Ryleigh. My little Ryleigh. I can’t wait to meet you.” Cas places his hands over top of Dean’s, and Dean realizes exactly who he’s going to raise this baby with, and how perfect they’ll be as parents.


	2. A yellow nursery

Three weeks later, Dean and Castiel decide that it’s time to officially set up a nursery. They instantly decide on yellow, something gender neutral for Ryleigh, and soon enough the two are painting away with Sam, Jess downstairs away from the fumes, working on putting together the crib for them. She just keeps getting bigger and bigger, causing Dean’s excitement to grow more and more as time goes on.

“Do you think she’ll like the shade?” Dean asks, stepping back from the wall he’s been working on and wiping his hand across his forehead. He never knew painting was such hard work- Castiel had always been the best at it, and Dean had left him and Sam to get the living room done while he was on a school trip.

“She’ll be a baby, Dean, it’s not like it’ll matter,” Sam tells him, looking back for a moment before he continues to roll the brush up and down the wall. Cas doesn’t turn to sign anything, and it bothers Dean how in tune his husband and his brother seem to be- now _two_ people are telling him how great salads and healthy eating are. Oh well, at least he still had Jess to back him up on a good burger. And likely Ryleigh when she’s older, considering how much she’s making Jess crave them.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Dean asks, getting back to work. He hears a brush being put down, and knows that Sam can see Cas better than he can and will translate for him.

“What’s weird?” Sam asks for the both of them.

“For like four and a half months she was _it_ and ‘The Fetus’.”

“Cas still doesn’t like that you called her that,” Sam butts in.

“I know, I know. But now… Now _it’s she_ and The Fetus is Ryleigh… It’s a lot to take in, y’know?”

“You’ll get used to it pretty quick,” Sam says.

“How would you know?” Dean mutters, getting a swat in the arm from Sam.

“Because, unlike you, I’ve actually read the parenting books, moron.”

“Pfft! I’ve read- some. One. Page. Maybe half. Listen, Sammy, I raised you and you turned out fine, didn’t you?” Dean puts the brush down when he hears Cas do the same, turning towards his husband and finding him glaring at Dean.

 _You haven’t read a single book?_ he signs.

“Well, uh, no. I mean, fuck, no, I haven’t,” Dean mumbles.

_She’ll be here in no time, Dean, there’s hardly any time for you to actually get at least one finished!_

“Is this really the time, Cas? I mean, we kinda need to get this done.”

_Dean, I’m serious!_

“And so am I!” This nursery needs to get finished before-”

“Okay! Dean, come downstairs with me and make some sandwiches? Hey, Cas, my wall’s nearly done, you wanna maybe finish it up and we’ll bring you a ham sandwich?” Cas glowers at Sam, but shoos the two away with his hand, picking up his brush and moving over to Sam’s wall while Sam grabs his brother and hauls him down the stairs. “Really, Dean? Cas is stressed enough about the kid and you can’t even read a parenting book?”

“I just don’t think I need to, man. I know how to change a diaper and I know how to bottle feed- is there really much else?” Sam just stares, and with that Dean knows he won’t win this argument with either his brother or his husband. “Fine,” he mutters, “I’ll read your stupid parenting book. Let’s just make the frigging food already.” When they get downstairs, Jess, is sitting on the floor with her back against the coffee table, a stuffed toy in hand as she watches what looks to be Lord of the Rings on the TV. The crib’s still in pieces before her. “Man, you’re doing a _wonderful_ job on my kid’s sleeping arrangements. Bravo, Jess,” Dean tells her sarcastically, getting a swift punch in the arm by Sam.

“She’s _carrying_ your kid, dumbass, show some respect.” Jess sticks her tongue out at Dean, who flips her the bird before he walks into the kitchen after Sam to help get lunch ready. Soon enough, they have five sandwiches- two for Jess after she couldn’t decide what kind she wanted- and are calling Cas down to the living room to eat.

“Sorry about the crib, Cas, the instructions just don’t make any sense to me,” Jess says between bites of food.

 _It’s fine. Dean can set it up later tonight_ , Cas signs.

“Of course I can,” Dean huffs.

_What? You’re better at it than me. We agreed I’d paint the designs and you’d handle the building. What’s your problem?_

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just- being a dick, is all.”

“Here, here!” Jess announces, biting into her second sandwich. Dean would say it’s the kid making her eat so much, but the girl’s always had a crazy metabolism and would eat anywhere from one to four sandwiches every lunch back when she and Sam were dating. In that way, they’re perfect for each other- they’ll both eat themselves out of house and home one day.

“Oh shut up, Jess,” Dean tells her, rolling his eyes.

“I could always take the baby and run, Dean,” Jess threatens.

“Okay!” Sam says, clapping his hands together. “Maybe we should call it a day?”

“No way! There’s still so much we need to do!”

“There’s like four months until she’s born. I think we have plenty of time. C’mon, man, let’s just end this before someone gets killed for no particular reason,” Sam pleads.

 _Maybe he’s right_ , Cas agrees. Dean sighs.

“Fine, fine. But next weekend we’re finishing this thing. Deal?”

“Deal,” Jess says, stealing the other half of Dean’s sandwich. She knows she can get away with it, too, since she’s carrying Dean’s daughter. Otherwise he might’ve tackled her to the ground over it. Ah, family.

“We’ll see you sometime this week, yeah?” Sam says, tossing Jess her coat and throwing his own on.

 _Definitely_ , Cas signs.

“For sure,” Dean says. “Can’t go that long with feeling her cute little kicks.”

“Yeah, they’re precious. Especially at two in the morning when I have rounds the next day. It just fills me with warm and happy thoughts,” Jess says sarcastically. Dean grins at her before wrapping her in a hug. And with that, Cas and Dean have the house to themselves.

“So,” Dean says.

 _Hot sex upstairs to make up for the argument?_ Cas signs.

“God, I knew I married you for a reason,” Dean grins, taking Cas’s hand and dragging him to the bedroom.

………

Monday rolls around faster than Dean had wanted it too, and while Cas had a class that starts at nine, Dean has to get up at the asscrack of dawn to grab everything he’ll need and open the shop that he calls his class. He’s getting a new scrap car in from Bobby today and he needs to clear a space. Even though Bobby mainly works at The Roadhouse these days, he still had his scrapyard open and Ash working at the front desk, taking in whatever he can for whatever he can make. Dean usually gets the cars that have a chance of life, and then when the class fixes them up, Dean sells them and splits the profit with Bobby. It’s a pretty decent system.

Dean tries to get out of bed as quietly as possible, knowing that Cas will be bitchy if Dean wakes him, and moves bare-ass naked across the floor to use the upstairs hall shower rather than the one in their master bath. When he’s dressed in jeans and one of the ten flannels he reserves for getting covered in grease, Dean groans and chugs down his coffee, grabbing a piece of toast as it springs up and heading out for the Impala. Sliding into the front of the car, he greets her with a pat on the dash, starting her up and backing out, driving the near ten minutes it takes to get to his high school.

There are always very few cars when Dean arrives, and today Bobby’s there to greet him around back with an old junker and a tow truck. They haul open the garage door and back the car in before Bobby mutters something about early mornings and leaves Dean with an egg salad sandwich from Ellen for lunch.

Soon enough, the school kids start to filter in, looking as dead on the inside as Dean feels, and he heads to the teacher’s lounge to get his daily dose of shitty ass coffee.

“Winchester!” an all too cheery voice calls to him.

“What did I say about being chirpy before noon, Bradbury?” Dean groans, holding a hand to his head as Charlie, the computers teacher, flits over and wraps Dean in a one armed hug.

“You said I need to shove it where the sun don’t shine, but I don’t care, I’m too happy to care!” Dean takes the coffee out from under the machine, sipping it carefully and watching Charlie with cautious eyes.

“Did a unicorn shit in your cornflakes? What the hell, man?” he asks.

“Nope! But Gilda-”

“Super got librarian from downtown that likes dungeons and dragons Gilda?”

“The very one.”

“Go on.”

“We’re going on a date on Friday!”

“Hey, congrats! I’m so glad to hear that you got the balls to ask her out!”

“So will that pull you out of your morning mood?”

“Fuck no. But it gives me hope for computer nerds everywhere.” Charlie rolls her eyes at him before moving to sit on what might have once been a nice couch, patting the seat beside herself.

“So how did the nursery setup go?” she asks, much too excitedly in Dean’s opinion.

“It didn’t. It was too much to do in one weekend. It’s half painted and I started the crib setup, but next weekend and the one after will be the deciding factors,” Dean grunts, stretching out on the couch and popping something in his back.

“That’s too bad, I wanted to come over and slap some Star Trek stickers on the wall and give you that little Buckbeak stuffy I got online for it. Speaking of it, I know the name- adorable spelling, by the way- but what the hell is the gender? Saying it is getting annoying, you know.”

“Hey, you didn’t need to get anything, thanks,” Dean says, sipping from his coffee and ignoring her other question. Cas wants to keep the sex a secret, so Dean will keep the sex a secret. For as long as he can, that is.

“Come on, Dean, it’s not like I have anyone to blab to!”

“Other than the whole staff, that is,” Dean points out.

“And while that’s a fair point, you’re really the only person I like here-”

“Hey!” Benny, one of the other tech teachers, calls out.

“Like I said,” Charlie says with a sly grin towards Benny, “you’re really the only one I like here.” Benny rolls his eyes before checking his watch, getting up and walking towards the two of them.

“Bell rings in six minutes,” he drawls, “best head on out if you don’t wanna be late.”

“Thanks, Benny,” Dean calls after him as he gives Charlie the finger before closing the door. Charlie just rolls her eyes, standing and trying to pull Dean to his feet.

“Get your lazy ass up, Winchester,” Charlie says, kicking his leg.

“Leave me to die,” Dean groans.

“Stop being so overdramatic.” Dean sighs, standing and taking another chug from his coffee before he puts the mug in the sink to wash on lunch, opening the door and venturing into the halls. Kids are everywhere, running up and down and shrieking and yelling and- why the hell did Dean want a baby again? Sighing, Charlie waves a farewell to him as she goes off to get her mail before she makes her way down to the tech wing, leaving Dean to walk alone and dodge a random ball here and there. Other teachers get pissy and tell kids to fuck off, or take their hats off or some shit, but Dean doesn’t give a rat’s ass, which is why he’s one of the favourite teachers in the school. As he makes his way, he signs hello to a few of the hearing impaired kids as well as the kids he sees from his sign club after school.

When he finally reaches his class, the only student in there is Cas’s niece, Claire Novak. How any female on the face of the Earth wanted to have a child with Gabriel Novak, Dean may never know. She’s sitting with her phone out, texting away, when Dean walks to the front of the class and begins writing things on the board, lightly touching her should as he walks in to let her know that he’s there. Since one of the only Universities for deaf students was just ten minutes from the school, it meant that a lot of deaf kids attended the high school as well. Claire had been born completely deaf, and neither Gabriel nor Kali, Claire’s mother, wanted to get her hearing aids until she was old enough to make the decision herself. Claire didn’t want them, and everyone in the family respected that.

 _Hey Uncle Dean_ , she signs to him as Dean turns to her.

 _Hey, kiddo, how was the weekend?_ Dean signs back as he leans against the blackboard.

 _It was okay. Dad was… well, dad,_ she signs, and Dean laughs.

 _Yeah, I totally get that_ , he signs back. With that, the bell rings, and the rest of the kids flood into the class, taking their seats and flopping their heads onto their arms. Quite a few chug coffee down before getting up and throwing the empties away.

“Okay, class!” Dean says loudly, being sure to face them when he does so to make sure Claire can read his lips. “I know how shitty Mondays are, and hate them just as much as you do, so it’s another choice for you guys.” With that, Dean gestures to the blackboard. “We can work on a junker, we can do some paper work, or we can watch an instructional video- no notes. We start the junker tomorrow no matter what, so we’ll take a vote.” By the end of the vote, educational video wins. Dean rarely lets them have these options, just once every month, and this is the first month of October, so it’s never happened before. He knows those who took the class last year know it’s not really an educational video, but the newbies with have a surprise. And with that he turns to the DVD player, putting in the CD and starting Star Wars. He hears cheers from the kids and Claire is grinning at him as it starts. Every year, he picks a new series to work through on what he calls ‘Magic Mondays’ and this year is Star Wars. By the end of the class, the kids are in a much better mood, and it’s onto the freshman class.

He gives the class the same option, and, like he expected, they choose to work on the junker. The first months has been safety and paperwork, so they’re eager to get started. Dean enjoys it, like he always does, and by the end of the class, they’re again leaving happy and chatting away about how much fun it was. With that, lunch begins, and Dean sits down at his desk, pulling out the egg salad sandwich and his phone, waiting for Charlie and Benny to show up like they do every day and have been doing for the past two years.

Opening his phone, he finds texts from Cas-

_Class is boring, come visit me_

_Seriously, it’s as if none of them have ever heard of Shakespeare_

_Lunch sucks come see me_

Dean grins and taps out his own response-

_Can’t, not enough time. Maybe tomorrow we can meet halfway and have a romantic lunch at Subway?_

The response is immediate-

_You had me at lunch_

Dean grins and hurriedly types-

_Asshole friends are coming, gotta go. Love you. See you tonight_

He puts his phone in his pocket just as Benny and Charlie enter, fighting about some comic or another. Dean nods along, eating his sandwich, his mind in a completely different place. He has his spare next, and has agreed to help out a kid with their project during it, so he can’t just slack off, and he’s trying to plan out what he’ll need for supplies for when Ed Zeddmore arrives.

“Dean? Helloooo, earth to Dean!”

“What? Yeah, I’m listening.”

“Remember in the summer when I asked you to help me with Quidditch?”

“Well I couldn’t, I had summer school, sorry,” Dean says, feeling out of it. Charlie rolls her eyes.

“Obviously, dumbass, but we’re starting up a school team. Do you want to coach it with me? Benny thinks it’s stupid.”

“No, I _know_ it’s stupid,” Benny tells her, and Dean grins.

“Charlie, you know I’d love to, but with Ryleigh coming-”

“Yeah, yeah, gotta work on your stupid perfect family.”

“If you had it right now, sure, but it’s a spring thing, right?”

“I know, it’s fine, Winchester. I’ll figure out how to guilt Lafitte into it no problem.” Benny rolls his eyes at her, taking another bite from the pizza he got from the cafeteria.

“Why don’t you two just get married already? Jeeze,” Dean says, smirking at them at Benny nearly chokes on his crust and Charlie pounds his back.

“Lesbian, Dean. Les. Bi. An.”

“Well, yeah, but true love will find a way,” Dean tells her with a wink. Charlie snorts a laugh and Benny glowers at him. Dean knows that Benny, although seven years older, has been harbouring a crush for a certain lesbian computer teacher, and he would never speak a word of it to her.

“Sorry, Deano, your sick fantasies are in the wind,” Charlie tells him. “Right, Benny?”

“Yeah, no way that’s happening, brother,” Benny tells him. Dean just shakes his head at the two before he gets back to his current love- that goddam delicious sandwich.

The rest of the day passes quickly, and soon enough he’s leaving to head home and make dinner for Cas. That is, if he’s home on time. On his way out the door of the tech wing, Dean stops to answer his phone. Seeing Sam’s name, he grins- his brother may be a major pain in his ass, but Dean still loves the kid regardless.

“Sam-may. My favourite bro-”

“Jess is in the hospital. It’s the baby.”

“Which one?”

“St. Joseph’s.”

“I’m coming,” Dean says, snapping the phone shut and sprinting to the Impala, dialing Cas’s number as he runs. The phone is off, but he leaves a hasty message. “Cas, Jess is at St. Joseph’s, get there as soon as you get this.” With that, Dean throws the phone on the passenger seat and speeds down the road, hoping to God everything will be okay.


	3. A birthday for the ages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello! This chapter is very short for something that has so much happen in it. I'm hoping to write more for the next ones, I just seem to be hitting a bit of a block with this fic. Sorry, guys!

Dean’s at the hospital in no time- his mind is already in overdrive. Where’s Cas? Did he get the message? He should have texted Dean back by now if he had- Dean doesn’t know what else to do, he wants to pick him up, but he needs to make sure their baby is alright first. Sam texted him the room number on his way over, no more no less, and Dean’s running up the stairs to the third floor, not bothering with the elevator, he needs to move, to get there, to be by Jess’s side.

When he gets into the room, it’s empty other than Sam, who’s pacing the room and wringing his hands together in front of himself. His head snaps up quickly when he hears the the door open, and he walks towards Dean quickly when he sees his brother.

“Sam, what happened?” Dean asks immediately.

“They just took her away, they said something about a test, I can’t remember the name- she’ll be back soon, I think.”

“The baby- what’s wrong with the baby?” Dean asks, eyes wide.

“She went into premature labour- I don’t know how, they said something about stress at work and bedrest-”

“Did she have the baby?” Dean snaps.

“No, thank God. They stopped the labour for now, but they said complications would arise.” Dean sits heavily in a chair, running his hands through his hair. He pulls out his phone and shoots Cas a text- baby should be fine, premature labour but not born, tests ensuing- hoping he would answer soon.

“Where’s Cas?” Sam asks.

“He’s at work, his phone is off- I don’t know when he’ll answer,” Dean tells him. Sam nods and sits down in the chair across from his brother, both of them silent. Dean’s leg bounces and his fingers tap, and for once Sam doesn’t tell him to knock it off. They both rise when Jess is wheeled back in on her bed, a nurse putting it back in place and a doctor walking in behind her. Sam takes Jess’s hand and she smiles at him, mumbling that she’s alright and there’s nothing to worry about.

“You’re the father, sir?” the doctor asks Dean.

“Yes, I am,” Dean tells him, stepping forwards. The doctor flips through the papers on his clipboard.

“Your surrogate, Jessica Moore, went into premature labour with the infant. We have successfully stopped the labour, but that does not mean that it will not occur again. We are putting Ms. Moore on bedrest until she is at least 34 weeks along with your child to ensure it has the safest delivery possible,” the doctor informs him.

“Okay. Is the baby… is she good, is she healthy?” Dean asks, eyes searching the doctor’s face for a hint of what he might be thinking.

“Your daughter is fine, from what we can see on the test results he have seen thus far. She should have a decent delivery if Ms. Moore follows through on our instructions. But, Mr. Winchester, I must warn you- even if everything runs perfectly smoothly for the remainder of the pregnancy, there are often times complications at birth regardless. I don’t want you to think that just because we’re taking all of these precautions that everything will be perfect for delivery.” Dean nods- he’s heard this speech before.

“I understand. Thank you, doctor,” Dean says, and the relief he feels is evident in his tone.

“Now, we’d like to keep Ms. Moore overnight and tomorrow night as well, to monitor her and the baby, as well as to inform her of all of the things she can and cannot do during this pregnancy now that she will be on bedrest.” Dean nods, and when he looks back he can see both Jess and Sam listening intently to the doctor. “A nurse will be in to see that Ms. Moore has the proper monitors connected, and that should be all. Do you have any questions?”

“The premature labour- will that hurt Jess in any way?” Sam pipes up. The doctor shakes his head.

“It shouldn’t affect Ms. Moore in a negative way, but I must warn you that bedrest is not the most pleasant thing for the majority of women; no moving around, no strenuous activities; you go from bed to the bathroom and back, for months.”

“I don’t care, just as long as the baby is healthy,” Jess tells him firmly. The doctor nods.

“And you’re sure the baby is fine?” Dean asks.

“Yes. From what we can tell, the baby has a strong and healthy heartbeat, and as long as stress is avoided, it should continue on this way.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Dean tells him.

“If you have anymore questions, don’t hesitate to ask,” the doctor says, and with that, he leaves. Dean lets out a long breath, hand over his eyes, and then moves to sit beside Jess, who looks more nervous than Dean has ever seen her.

“What is it?” Dean asks.

“Dean, I’m so sorry, I should have taken better care of myself, for Ryleigh’s sake-”

“Don’t you say anything like that,” Dean says quickly. “This isn’t your fault, this happens all the time from what I’ve read. Yes, Sam, I’ve read some things, shut up about it. I want to stay, but I really need to tell Cas what happened- I’ll go get him and we’ll be right back here.” Dean stands, taking Jess’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Don’t be too long,” Sam warns, “you might miss out on Jess’s daily dose of Young and the Restless.” Jess shoots him a wink and Dean rolls his eyes before leaving the room and, a moment later, the hospital. Still no response from Cas (damn those Universities and their teaching schedules) so Dean tries to hurry as he makes his way through the traffic to the school. When he gets there, he parks the car and hurries to Cas’s building, scanning the room names before he finds his husband’s. He opens the door and peaks his head in; Cas is in the middle of a lecture with his students, a slideshow on what he’s signing behind him with pictures displayed every so often.

“Cas!” Dean calls, and he turns towards him, a frown on his face. He stops the slideshow and types in ‘One moment please’ to his students, signing it as well as he crosses the room to go to Dean.

 _What is it?_ he asks.

“It’s Jess, she’s in the hospital,” Dean whispers to him. Cas’s eyes widen.

_The baby-?_

“She’s okay. Jess went into premature labour, but it’s okay, everything’s fine with her and the baby. She’s in the hospital for a couple of days to be monitored, but it’s fine, everything’s fine.” Dean watches as Cas’s face goes from panic to relief.

_Thank God. This lesson is almost over, and I’ll send an email to cancel the rest for the day, along with what they’ll be learning. Just give me twenty minutes._

“Okay. I’ll be right outside the door. Cas?” Dean says as he turns to leave. Cas turns back. “I love you. And this baby will be fine, I promise.” Cas gives him a small smile before he returns to the front of the class. Dean slides back out the door with all of Cas’s students watching him. He tries to ignore their stares as he leaves, and sits down on a bench outside the class. Dean’s lost in his head when Cas comes out of the class, placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder and giving him a tight smile when Dean looks up. Dean flashes him a smile as well, rising and taking his husband’s hand, leading him from the school and back to the Impala.

Dean cranks the music while Castiel sits beside him, nervously drumming his fingers. Both are quiet, not saying or signing anything.

When they get back to the room, Sam smiles and gestures for them to come forwards. Jess js asleep on the bed, snoring loudly. Dean doesn’t know how Sam sleeps beside her every night.

The three of them sit in their silence, not sure what to say to one another. They’re all just glad that everything will be fine, that everyone will be all right.

………..

Jess’s pregnancy, in Dean’s words, is complete shit. The baby herself? She’s great, she’s healthy, kicking like crazy and driving Jess up the wall. But Jess is confined to her bed for the entire remainder of the pregnancy. She grows distant. Her spirit wanes. Sam  tries to get through to her, to do whatever he can. Dean is there everyday after school until Sam comes home, bringing her new books, more sewing yarn, new movies- everything she could possible want and need. But it doesn’t help. After the first month, she can’t pull herself out of her state of depression any longer. The only reason she does anything is for the baby. It’s a strain on her and Sam’s relationship, and it’s making Dean question if this was ever the right thing to do. Castiel continues to reassure him that everything will be okay as soon as Ryleigh is here, as soon as she’s born they’ll be alright.

The day that Jess hits 36 weeks, two more than the doctor said, she goes into the doctor’s office and is told that she is no longer on bed rest. Jess nods her head, Dean grinning beside her, as Sam is at work and Castiel at the University, assisting a student.

On the way home, Dean asks if she wants anything.

“I want to go grocery shopping,” Jess says, turning slowly towards him.

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Dean tells her. They go to the local market, and by the time they’ve bought everything from formula to bibs to fruits and vegetables to way too much hamburger meat, Jess is grinning from ear to ear. The car ride home is full of both of them singing to the radio, and they stop at a fastfood place, going in to get some lunch. Jess eats two whole burgers. Dean laughs and can only manage to eat one. When they reach home, Jess doesn’t sit for a minute. She puts all the groceries away, she does the dishes, she starts baking cookies and a cake and Christ knows what else. Every time Dea asks if she needs some help, Jess nearly bites his head off. She cleans everything. As in, everything. She cleans the apartment bathroom, the bedroom, she vacuums everything. She’ll pause every once in a while and cringe, making Dean get up and try to force her to sit down, but she’s having none of it.

“If these contractions are starting now, fuck that shit, I’m not sitting around waiting for them to get worse. I need to move, Dean. I can’t sit still any longer,” Jess tells him, and with the look she gives Dean, there’s no way he’s making her stop.

After another seven hours of Jess doing everything she can, Sam comes home, and she practically tackles him to the ground. Sam’s laughing and kissing her and basically looking more in love than Dean’s ever seen him.

“Well I don’t want to get in the way of this reunion,” Dean chuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jess?” Sam’s work schedule is absolute shit. He works weekends, only Tuesdays off, and he can’t get anymore time off than he already has to look after Jess. Dean can see the despair in his brother’s eyes when he says this; Sam wants nothing more than to be able to be there for Jess until the baby comes. But Dean understands, and so does Jess; so she’ll be spending the day with Dean and Castiel at their house.

Castiel is home when Dean gets there. They eat a quiet dinner, and then afterwards Castiel practically drags Dean to the bedroom, signing that this may be their last time in a while judging by what Dean’s told him from the contractions. Dean isn’t complaining one bit.

The next morning, Jess comes in with her coat on her arm, the baby bump like a planet on the front of her. She and Sam have a bag of baby things that Castiel thanks them for and takes upstairs. Sam gives Jess one final kiss before he leaves for work. Jess’s face drops as soon as he’s gone and she reaches forwards for Dean’s arm.

“Whoa, whoa, you okay? Should we get you to the hospital?” he asks, tone full of concern.

“Don’t you dare,” Jess gasps, hand over her stomach. “My water hasn’t broken yet, and I’m going anywhere until it does.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean says, carefully leading Jess over to the couch, where she sprawls out with her legs in all directions, a groan in the back of her throat. Dean rubs his hand against the back of his neck, looking from Jess to the stairs, waiting for Cas to come back down. When he does, Dean dashes over to him, dragging him into the kitchen. “She needs to go to the hospital. We need to convince her to-”

“SHIT!” he hears from the other room.

Twenty minutes in, and Jess’s water breaks.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she shouts. “Fuck, it’s all over your couch, god fucking dammit! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, it’s fine, get up! Cas, help her out to the car, I’m calling Sam!” Castiel nods, rushing forwards and scooping Jess off the couch, practically carrying her out to the car. Dean pulls his phone out while he’s sprinting up the stairs to get the overnight bag they’d already packed. “Sam? Can’t talk, taking Jess to the hospital, her water broke. Gotta go!” Dean clicks the phone off before Sam can get a word in edgewise.

He’s grinning so hard he fears his face might split when he reaches the front door. He pauses for a moment, watching as Jess is holding herself against the car door that Cas is holding open. “We’re having a baby. Oh my God, we’re having a baby.”

With that, Dean leaves the house, going to help Jess sit down. Cas goes to the other side and sits beside her behind the driver’s seat, while Dean hops up front and starts the car. They don’t drive faster than absolutely necessary, and Dean feels like they hit every damn red light in town. When they’re just a block from the hospital, Dean thinks that they’ll never actually make it. The light finally turns green, Jess making an awful screaming moan in the back seat, and when Dean turns to look back at her, he hears a horn blaring beside him. 

He turns just in time to look out the passenger window and see a truck smash into the side of the Impala before everything goes black.


	4. Jessica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- this is the chapter where the character death occurs.

Everything hurts. Dean fades in and out of the abyss, catches snippets of things that he wishes he hadn’t. He sees Cas, being pulled out of the Impala, covered in blood, a gleaming of white coming from his leg. He sees Jess, her blond hair red, her eyes open, but not seeing anything. Dean goes to black, and when he opens his eyes again, there’s blue skies, an ambulance ceiling, and black. He sees Sam’s face for a brief second, he’s yelling, fighting against two bodies. He sees doctors, lights, and he feels a sharp pain in his arm before he’s out again.

When Dean finally cracks open his eyes and manages to keep them open, everything hurts. He looks blearily around the room, smacking his lips, mouth drier than its ever been. His eyes land on a figure beside him- Sam. He has his head in his hands and his elbows resting on his knees. Dean thinks he’s making a sound, but he can’t be sure.

“Sam?” he tries, but barely a whisper comes out of his throat. He strains against the bed and tries again. “Sam?” His brother’s head snaps up, eyes red and puffy as he locks in on Dean.

“Dean? Oh thank God you’re awake! I’ll get the doctor, just- don’t move!” With that, Sam is gone. Dean lays very still. He’s afraid to move, afraid to know what’s happened to him- but after a few seconds it’s involuntary- he needs to know, he just needs to.

Legs and feet- check. The left one is broken, but there.

Hands and arms- shit. Shit, shit, SHIT. Left arm, right arm, left hand, right hand- but the right hand. He flexes it again, and he almost throws up. Two fingers aren’t moving. Dean can hear the heart monitor begin to pick up, and he can feel himself going into panic mode.

“Dean! Dean, calm down, look at me, Dean!” he hears Sam say, focusing on his brother’s face. There are two doctors behind him, one of them moving Sam out of the way. Dean sees a bright light in his eye and tries to move away.

“Mr. Winchester? I’m Dr. Mosely, and this is Dr. Shurley. Can you hear me?” a woman asks him.

“Yes,” he rasps.

“Mr. Winchester, you were in a car accident. Do you remember what happened?”

“Cas?” Dean asks instantly. “Where’s Cas?”

“Mr. Winchester, how much do you remember from the accident?” Dean swallows, trying to get some kind of moisture into his mouth.

“There was a truck. And I remember Cas and Jess. And blood.”

“Okay, Mr. Winchester. You have a broken leg, and a minor head injury. During the crash, the windshield smashed open, and you’ve lost two fingers on your right hand.” Dean can’t breathe. He forces himself to look down at the hand and sees it heavily bandaged. He closes his eyes, clenching his jaw and nodding his head.

“Okay,” he says, “Okay. Cas?” Sam won’t look at him.

“Your husband, Castiel Novak, was not as fortunate as you, Mr. Winchester. He’s currently in a coma. We’re unsure when or if he will wake up.” Dean slacks back against the pillows. He closes his eyes and turns away from the three of them, tears falling from his eyes. He reaches his left hand up as quickly as he can, wiping them away. He feels numb, empty. But he has more questions, and he can focus on Cas soon, in just a few minutes.

“Jess? The baby?” he asks slowly. Sam makes what Dean can only describe as a choking sound before turning away and leaving the room. “What happened?”

“Mr. Winchester…”

“What happened?” Dean asks shrilly, voice scraping against his throat. He begins to cough, eyes tearing up as they tear from his chest.

“Mr. Winchester, you need to get some rest. We’ll give you more sedatives you help you sleep,” Mosely says. Dean shakes his head no.

“Tell me. You need to tell me,” he rasps. The doctors share a look.

“Mr. Winchester, the accident was very bad. Ms. Moore was on the side of the vehicle that was struck by the transport. She was dead on scene.” Dean doesn’t know how to react. He’s very quiet before he looks up and asks

“The baby?”

“She was removed by the paramedics.”

“Is she-”

“She’s in the NICU in critical condition.”

“She’s alive?” Dean asks, and the tears begin to slide down his face once more. Mosely and Shurley exchange a glance. Shurley steps forwards.

“I’m your daughter’s doctor, Mr. Winchester… she isn’t in very good shape. We’re doing all we can, but for the time being, we’re not sure if she’ll make it through the night.” Dean sucks in a deep breath, and before he knows it he’s practically hyperventilating. There are hands on his shoulders holding him to the bed and a mask being placed on his face. Dean breathes deeply into the mask, and feels himself drifting off once more.

When he wakes it’s dark. He can see Sam beside him, surely asleep. Dean feels… awake. More awake than he was before. There’s a deep, horrible ache in his right hand, and a throbbing pain in his broken leg.

“Sam?” he asks, and his voice is stronger. He reaches out his right hand, flinching when the bandages rub against his open flesh. He places his hand on Sam’s shoulders and his brother’s eyes flash open. He sits back in the chair, snapping his head to face Dean.

“Hey,” Sam says, flashing a tiny smile at his brother. “I should get the nurse-”

“No,” Dean says, gripping the cloth of Sam’s shirt. “Stay.” Sam nods, sinking back into his seat. They sit in silence for a few moments.

“Why do bad things happen to good people?” Sam whispers. Dean shakes his head.

“I don’t know, Sammy. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Sam says, hands clenching on his legs. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Don’t. It wasn’t your fault. You did everything- everything right. You had a green light. He couldn’t stop. It was. It was fate or destiny or some stupid FUCKING shit!” Sam stands and Dean’s arm shrinks back. He walks across the room and stops, hands fisting in his hair before he backs against the wall and slides down, head on his knees and arms wrapping around them. Dean tries to swallow against the lump in his throat, but it’s slowly growing more difficult. He raises his hand to wipe the tears away, and is beginning to wonder what the point is- it’s not like he’ll stop crying anytime soon.

“Have you seen them?” Dean asks thickly. Sam sniffs before raising his head to the ceiling, gasping and wiping his eyes. He stands, bracing himself against the wall, before he shakes his head no. “Can… will they let me?”

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam whispers.

“Sam, please,” Dean begs, “you need to ask. I just need to see her once. Just once.” Sam bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling before he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah I can ask,” Sam says, giving Dean another quick, meaningless smile before he dashes out the door. Dean leans back against the pillow, mind blank, trying not to focus on anything. A few moments later, the lights flash back on, Dean cringing from them, and a nurse and Shurley walk in.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” Shurley says.

“You’re still here,” Dean says, surprised. Shurley laughs.

“Yeah. I… I wanted to be here for when you woke up.” Dean’s heart drops.

“Why?” he demands. Shurley lowers his eyes.

“I want you to fill out the birth certificate,” he says.

“Right now?” Dean asks, flexing his remaining fingers on his right hand and cringing.

“We can have our nurse here, Meg, fill out the forms, you just need to name the names,” Shurley says with a smile. Dean goes quiet, his mind spinning.

“Of course,” he says weakly. The nurse pulls out a clipboard and a pen.

“The parents are?” Shurley asks.

“Dean Winchester,” Dean says robotically, spelling his first and last names out for the nurse. “And Castiel Novak.” He spells Cas’s name too, gritting his teeth at the end.

“And what is the child’s name?” Shurley asks. Dean’s eyes flash across the room to Sam, who’s standing against the wall by the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Jessica,” Dean says, eyes on Sam, who turns towards Dean, tears spilling over onto his cheeks and mouth unable to stop moving. “Jessica Ryleigh Winchester-Novak.” Dean spells all that out too. When it’s finished, Shurley nods at Meg, who leaves the room.

“I suppose you’ll want to meet Jessica?” Shurley says with a small smile. Dean lets out a humourless laugh.

“I’d love to, doc,” Dean says. Shurley nods, and calls the nurse back in, without the clipboard. Sam moves forwards and wraps Dean in a hug. Dean squeezes him back, the two not moving for a few minutes. When Sam steps back, he nods at Dean, who gives him a tight lipped smile.

“We’ll get you into a wheelchair and on your way, then,” Shurley says, placing his hand lightly on Dean’s shoulder before he helps Meg move him from the bed to the chair. He’s weaker than he thought, and they have to call a third nurse, telling Sam to stay back. When he’s successfully in the chair, they wheel him out into the hall and down to the elevators, before they go up to the pediatrics wing.

Once there, Shurley tells Meg she can go back downstairs, and takes Sam and Dean down to the NICU, where the two don gowns before entering the room filled with little baby incubators. Shurley wheels Dean up to one, and with the help of him and Sam, stands from the chair on his good leg to look in at his daughter. He sucks in a shocked breath.

She has tubes everywhere. In her nose, her mouth, her arms, her stomach- everywhere. She had bandages over her head and on her arm, and she doesn’t look like she’s breathing on her own. Dean lets out a sob, wrenching forwards not of his own accord, Sam and Shurley the only thing to keep him from collapsing onto the incubator.

“My baby,” he says, taking his arm from Shurley’s shoulder and reaching it forwards, gently placing it on top of the incubator. “My beautiful, beautiful little girl. Sam?”

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam asks softly.

“Could- would you take a picture? Of her? For me?” Sam gives him a small smile.

“Of course.” Shurley and Sam sit him back in the chair and Sam pulls his phone out, snapping a few pictures of Jessica. Shurley crouches down in front of Dean, and Dean knows he isn’t ready for this. This wasn’t part of the deal.

“Dean,” Shurley says, looking him in the eyes, “this isn’t an easy decision to make, I know.” Dean turns his head away, clenching his eyes shut and biting his lip. Shurley doesn’t stop talking. “If we operate, she’ll die. If we don’t, she’ll die. Those machines are keeping her alive, Dean. We don’t think she’ll make it through the night, regardless of the machines.”

“What are you asking me?” Dean whispers, turning his head to look at Shurley again, lips shaking and tears welling in his eyes.

“What I’m asking you,” Shurley says, “is whether you want to keep her on the machines until it happens, or if you want me to take her off of them.” Dean blows out a breath, taking his left hand and placing it in his hair. He sits back up.

“What happens if you take her off of the machines?” Dean asks.

“She won’t go right away. She’ll be able to breathe for a little while. It could be minutes, it could be an hour. I can’t know for sure,” Shurley tells him.

“And if- if I take her off,” Dean stutters, “can I hold her? Can- can I make sure she knows she’s loved? That I’m here, until the end?” Shurley smiles with no joy and nods his head.

“As soon as the tubes are out, we can wrap her up, and you can hold her,” he tells him. Dean blows out a long breath, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“Dean?” Sam asks, placing his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Dean nods.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “Do it. I- she doesn’t deserve to go like that. Take the tubes out.”

“Dean, are you sure?” Sam asks.

“If she keeps them in, is there any chance?” Dean asks. “Any chance at all?” Shurley stands, running his hand through his hair.

“If we keep the tubes in, there’s an incredibly small chance that she’ll be able to breathe on her own. But from what the scans have shown, she’ll be severely brain damaged. She’ll be unable to think for herself or do anything on her own.”

“But there’s a chance,” Dean breathes. Shurley shakes his head.

“Mr. Winchester, we all need hope. And I understand that more than you will ever know. But in this instance, that tiny chance isn’t likely to happen. And when I say isn’t likely, I mean that her surviving this long has been a miracle all on its own. I mean that there are babies who we’ve said this to, who we’ve said will be brain damaged and turn out decently, but your baby isn’t one of them. She’ll have a hard and short life. It will be painful, and it will be confusing and cruel. And all of that is if she managed to pull through the night.”

“Stop telling me this,” Dean whispers, lowering his head and wrapping his good arm around it. “I can’t think about this.”

“You need to, Dean,” Sam says gently, kneeling down beside the wheelchair. “She needs you to choose.” Dean looks over at the incubator and then back at Shurley.

“I wouldn’t want to live like that,” he whispers. “But I can’t choose. I can’t be the one who makes this choice. What if I make it and then Cas wakes up and there was a chance? A slim chance, but a chance?” Shurley rubs the back of his neck. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“All of this is hypothetical. IF she makes it through the night. IF her lungs work. IF she ever opens her eyes. IF she isn’t braindead by morning. There are so many if’s, and not enough certainties.”

“But Cas is her father too,” Dean whispers.

“Dean,” Sam says slowly, “Cas might not wake up.” Dean shakes his head.

“Cas will wake up,” he says firmly. Sam blows out a breath.

“I can’t influence you in this choice, Dean,” Sam tells him. “It’s all up to you.” Dean sits very still for a long time. He lets out a shaky breath and nods his head.

“Pull the tubes,” he breathes.

“Are you sure?” Shurely asks. Dean squeezes his eyes shut before he opens them again and gives Shurley a brisk nod.

“I’m sure.”

Shurley steps forwards and gently pulls the lid off of the incubator. Dean can’t see what he’s doing, but two nurses come over to him, and after ten minutes Shurley tells them he’s removing the breathing tube. When he does, he quickly wraps her in a blanket and gently sets her in Dean’s waiting arms. Tears are streaming down his face, and he lets out an involuntary laugh when he sees her face. He looks back at Sam, who’s smiling too.

“Look at how perfect she is, Sammy,” he says, turning his head to look at her again. He takes his good hand and reaches forwards, stroking his fingers down her face, her arms, her tiny little chest, which is moving slowly but surely. He rocks her gently in his wheelchair, not taking his eyes off of her perfect, perfect little face. “I love you more than you will ever comprehend, my sweet little Jessica.” Just after he says that, he can feel it. He can feel her chest stop moving, he can hear her shallow breathing stop.

“Doc-”

“She’s almost gone, Dean,” Shurley says softly. Dean nods briskly, trying to control his rapid breaths. He nods once more, biting down on his lips. Carefully, he leans forwards, gently placing his lips to her forehead.

“I’m here. I’m here, Jessica. It’s okay. I’m here.” Shurley reaches forwards gently, placing his fingers on her neck.

“Time of death is 11:30pm,” Shurley says quietly.

Dean looks down at her small, perfect face, and all he feels is empty.


	5. Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short guys! I seem to only be able to write this one with short chapters :/

Sam tries to keep Dean from going to see Cas.

“Dean,” Sam says, squatting down in front of the wheelchair, both hands on the armrests to try and keep him from moving. “Dean, after what just happened, I really don’t think that you should be going to see Cas. You need to go back to your room and rest.” Dean shakes his head vigorously, keeping his eyes on Sam the whole time and trying to completely ignore the nurse carrying away the small bundle that is- was- his daughter. Dean grits his teeth.

“She’s gone, Sam. Just. Just gone. But Cas is alive. And I need to see him, and I need him to know that I’m here. Just let me see him. Just ask Shurley to take me to him. Please, Sam. I can’t lose her and not see him. Please.” Sam looks away, biting his lower lip. He nods, standing from the chair and crossing the room. Dean sees his place his hand on Shurley’s shoulder before he looks away, staring blankly at the floor in front of him.

What is he going to do now? Jess is dead. His baby is dead. Cas is as good as dead. He and Sam are all alone. All alone.

“Dean?” he hears Shurley ask. Dean doesn’t move his head. “I can take you to see you husband now, if you’re still wanting to go.”

“Yes,” Dean mumbles, slowly turning his head to face the doctor. “Yes, I would like that very much.” Shurley nods, moving behind him and pushing Dean down the hallway. Dean can hear Sam walking behind Shurley, and he wants to see him, to make sure he’s fine and alive, but he just keeps staring forwards.

They enter the elevator once more, making their way down to the ICU. When they get there, Shurley wheels Dean past the front desk, saying a few clipped words to a nurse there before he takes Dean into what he knows is Cas’s room. Dean closes his eyes as they enter. He won’t open them, even when Shurley tells him he’ll give them a moment. He doesn’t open them even when Sam asks if he’s alright. He just can’t.

“This is what you wanted, damn you!” Sam finally shouts. His voice is wavering. “You can’t just demand to see him, put me through all of this, and then be a selfish bastard, Dean! He’s your husband! Open your eyes and look at him, because- because you still can. You still can, so look at him.” Dean’s eyes flash open, and he can hardly even tell when he isn’t crying anymore. He can’t see Sam. His eyes won’t leave Cas.

His face is littered with small scratches, just like Dean’s own, a white bandage wrapping around his head, and one leg is out of the blanket, heavily bandaged. Cas’s arms are covered with bruises. One hand has a cast on it, and Dean’s mind immediately goes to him not being able to sign. He can’t stop switching his eyes from that cast to the breathing tube that’s in his face.

“I’m sorry for what I said, Dean,” Sam whispers behind him.

“It’s not your fault, Sammy,” Dean replies hollowly, not taking his gaze off of Cas. “I get it. I get how you’re feeling.”

“I know.”

The two of them sit and stand in silence. Dean doesn’t move to touch Cas, to take his hand or brush that stray strand of hair out of his eyes. He can’t find it in himself to move. Just moments before, all he wanted to see was Cas, all he needed was Cas- and now, he doesn’t know if he can ever look at Cas the same way again. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop feeling guilty. Guilty for choosing to drive to the hospital, for letting Cas sit next to Jess, for letting Jess sit in the back, for letting Jessica die- so many things that Dean feels guilty for that Cas will never forgive him of.

And so Dean sits.

He sits, and he stares at his husband, stuck in this bed, stuck in his own mind.

He sits and thinks of nothing, because he feels that he is worthy of nothing.

Dean sits and wonder why life chose to let him be awake. Why he was chosen to be here. Why? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t want to know. He just wants to take Cas’s place. Take Jess’s place. Take Jessica’s place. Just to not be him anymore.

\--

When, after three hours, Dean hasn’t moved and Sam has left to get coffee twice, dead tired, he goes to find a doctor. It’s 2:30 in the morning and Sam doesn’t know what to do. He can’t just take Dean from the room, and he can’t make Dean say or do anything.

Dean has finally seen Cas, and now he’s empty. He has officially fulfilled every purpose he has and he has nothing else to do but sit and wait. Wait for Cas to wake up, wait for Cas to die, wait to lose his mind.

“Mr. Winchester?” he hears behind him. Dean doesn’t move. “My name is Amelia, and I’m the therapist at the hospital. Would you mind if I sit with you?” Dean doesn’t say a thing. He hears a chair scrape across the floor, and he hears her sit down. Her breathing is loud next to him. There’s quiet for a few moments, but it doesn’t last. “You know, I lost my little boy and his sister in an accident last year, and my husband died from his injuries a few days later. Now it’s just me and the twin of my son.”

“Stop talking,” Dean grinds out.

“I didn’t know what to do either, Dean. I stopped. Just like you. But would your husband want this? Would he want you to shut down?”

“HOW THE FUCK WOULD I KNOW?” Dean shouts, turning in his chair. “He’s in a FUCKING COMA and all I can do is SIT HERE and WAIT for something that will never even FUCKING HAPPEN! I can’t just sit and watch him die like this.”

“Then don’t,” Amelia says, and her eyes are sincere when Dean looks at them, his own searching, pleading. “Bad things happen, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t need to deal with them. Castiel isn’t in a good situation right now, but there’s nothing you can do to change that. Dean, it’s 2:30 in the morning. You can sit here and stare at him or you can get some needed sleep.”

“I killed my daughter today,” Dean says, eyes empty as he stares at the ground before flicking his gaze back to Amelia. “I killed my own child.” Amelia shakes her head.

“You stopped her suffering.”

“What if I need to kill Cas too? I can’t do that. I can’t.”

“No one’s saying you need to, Dean. Let’s just get you back to your room. Your hand must be hurting, why not get some painkillers for that? Get in a few hours of sleep and then come back and see Cas in the morning?” Dean worries his bottom lip, his gaze going from Cas to Amelia.

“If I go,” he says, “and I’m only saying if- you need to make Sammy get sleep too. And you need to talk to him. Don’t worry about me, I’m- I’m already gone. But you can help Sam.” Amelia gives him a tired smile.

“I can’t. He’s already spoken with a grief counselor and set up further appointments. Dean. I’m here for you. It’s 2:30 in the morning when I could be at home with my son, and I’m here for you. I’m not saying that to make you feel bad. I’m saying that to make you realize that you’re more important than you will ever know. Now please, come back to your room and get some sleep. I can come back when you wake up, if you want, or I can come visit during my scheduled hours.” Dean’s eyes focus on the floor.

“What if I don’t want you to come back?”

“Then we can find you another therapist,” Amelia says, and Dean flinches at the word.

“I don’t want another… counselor.”

“Then I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I don’t want anyone,” Dean says firmly.

“You need someone, Dean.”

“I don’t.”

“We all need someone.”

“I don’t want you to come back.”

“Well I am. Now, we can discuss this tomorrow, but let’s get you to bed, hm?” Amelia says, rising and grabbing the handles on Dean’s wheelchair. He doesn’t protest when she wheels him from the room and down to the elevator. When Dean reaches his own room, he sees Sam’s giant body spread out over a cot. All Dean feels is more guilt- Sam’s going to be all fucked up because he has to sleep on a cot, whether it’s because he doesn’t want to be away from Dean or because Dean got his fiancee killed when he asked her to carry his child.

“Dean?” Amelia asks as the nurse comes in, putting something into his IV bag. Dean slowly turns his head to look at her. “I want you to remember that, mostly importantly, you don’t control the universe, and the universe doesn’t care what you think you control. None of this happened because of anything you did. Shit happens. Got it?” Dean’s lids are heavy, and those are the last words he hears before he slips into unconsciousness.


	6. I'm sorry

Four days have passed since the accident. Four days and Cas is still unconscious and Sam is still crying and everything hurts and Dean honestly wants to die. Amelia comes by every day. Dean stays in Cas’s room until they physically wheel him out so they can take care of him, and then Amelia is there and Dean just wants her to fuck off.

“Well, then we can find you another therapist,” she says to him.

“I don’t want another therapist,” Dean snaps, “I don’t want anyone fucking around in my head!” To which she always rolls her eyes and says that the hospital pays her to help him. Dean doesn’t want this. It’s been only four days of this bullshit and already he feels like he’s going nuts.

He wakes up. He avoids eye contact with Sam. He’s checked in on. He’s given medication. Shurley or a med student check him over. He wheels himself to Cas’s room. He talks to Amelia. He goes to see Cas. He goes to the fucking bullshit physical therapy for his hand. He goes to see Cas. He eats for the first time all day when Sam nearly shoves it down his throat. He says goodnight to Cas. He and Sam don’t speak to each other.

On the sixth day, Sam goes home Dean tells him he’ll lose his fucking mind if he has to look at Sam’s face and feel guilt wash over him every single time. He can see Sam crying as he leaves.

It only makes him feel worse.

On the ninth day, Shurley discharges him, saying that he should go home, get some rest.

Dean sleeps in the hospital chair outside of Cas’s ICU room.

On the eleventh day he discovers that his phone isn’t destroyed, it just needs to be charged. He calls the school and works out the fact that he’ll be missing for God knows how long. He calls the University and updates them. He visits Cas, he talks with Amelia, he visits Cas, he goes to physical therapy…

He hasn’t left the hospital in three weeks. He knows half the nurses by name and he knows the life story of nearly every patient on the floor. He wakes up. He goes to see Cas. He talks to Amelia.

Eighteen days in and Cas hasn’t so much as twitched. The doctor tells him that the infection in Cas’s leg isn’t going away and that if it starts to spread, they’ll likely need to amputate. He wants Dean to sign the papers. Dean wants Sam.

On the twentieth day he signs the papers as best as he can with his fucked up hand. He calls Sam. No answer. He waits for Cas. He talks to Amelia. He skips physical therapy. He waits for Cas.

The surgery doesn’t take long. By that night, Dean’s back in Cas’s room, wrapping his hand around Cas’s, wishing to God it had been him and not Cas. He focuses on his face and not his legs. He doesn’t want to think about his leg. He doesn’t want to think about anything. He calls Sam. No answer.

On the twenty first day he hasn’t heard from Sam in fifteen days. Some kind of fog lifts from his brain, and Dean realizes what that probably means. He jumps up from his chair next to Cas’s bed, feeling around in his pockets and getting his keys out. He stares at them, realizing that the Impala must be totaled. Dean drops the keys of the table, taking his hands and wrapping them around the back of his head, taking a deep breath.

He pulls out his phone and calls Sam. No answer. He calls a taxi company, kisses Cas on the forehead, and goes downstairs, breathing in fresh air for the first time in days. He’s been buying all his clothes from the gift shop and they don’t feel right. He just wants to feel right.

He gets in the taxi and gives the address to Sam and- to Sam’s apartment. When he gets there, he doesn’t think, he just walks right in and takes the elevator up to Sam’s floor. He knocks. No answer. Knocks again. No answer.

“Sam! Open the door!” he yells, smashing his fist on it. He hears a groan from the other side. “Dammit, Sam, I can hear you, open the fucking door!” He hears shuffling and the switch of a lock. Dean opens the door and nearly gags. “What the actual fuck?” Sam’s sitting against the wall next to the door, a bottle of God knows what to his lips. He’s in pyjamas and he doesn’t have a shirt on. Dean’s 90% sure he smells vomit. He closes the door and crouches next to Sam. “Hey. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Sam pushed Dean back weakly.

“Fuck off, Dean, this is all your fault,” he mumbles and Dean’s heart freezes in his chest.

“Sam, come on, let’s go, you can’t just sit here in your own filth. You’re going in the shower.”

“Fuck off, Dean! Fuck! Off! This is ALL YOUR FAULT! If you and your fucking husband hadn’t- if you hadn’t driven- if you’d called a FUCKIGN AMBULANCE SHE MIGHT STILL BE ALIVE, DEAN! I LOST EVERYTHING! I LOST HER! I LOST EVERYTHING!”

“Sam-”

“No! I fucking hate you, Dean, and I never want to see you again. Get out of my apartment.” Dean’s frozen, he can’t- he can’t- “GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT, GET THE FUCK OUT, GET OUT!” He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes out. “Oh God, Sam, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” And now he’s on the floor, but he doesn’t remember falling. And now he’s sobbing, but he doesn’t remember when he started. He feels arms around him, and tears on his neck, his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Dean, I’m sorry, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”


	7. Day eighty three

On the twenty fifth day Dean is spoken to about his ‘options’. About whether he wants to pull the plug, or whether he wants Cas to go to a long-term care facility. Sam is back in the hospital with him. He makes Dean go home every night, and he goes home with him. He can’t go- he just can’t. And so when the doctor gives Dean the clipboard with the papers that at the bottom ask for his signature, Sam is the one who’s by his side the entire time, Sam’s the one who’s keeping him from having a total meltdown, and Dean doesn’t know how Sam can be this calm when his wife is dead.

“I- can I think about this?” Dean asks and the doctor nods. “You can have all the time it takes, Mr. Winchester.” Sam says he’s going to get a coffee. Dean sits down next to Cas, taking his hand. “What the hell am I supposed to do, supposed to say, Cas? Wha- what do you want? Do you want to stay like this, to keep fighting?” Dean stares down at his pale body. He’s getting thinner. He’s lost so much colour, and the scratches on his face seem to angry and red as they start scarring over. The flatness at the end of his bed where his left leg should be terrifies Dean. His right hand is broken. What if he can’t sign? And what if he never gets the hang of walking again? Would he want to wake up to this? To this cold and empty world, where Jess and Jessica are dead, where both of them are disabled? Would Cas want that?

And Dean doesn’t know. He just doesn’t. They never discussed this, they never planned this out, because neither of them ever thought that they would be in this situation. Dean? Dean would want that plug pulled. Dean would never want to be hooked up to machines breathing for him. Dean would want his organs donated as a last hurrah and then bam, dead. But what does Cas want? What does he want? Dean just doesn’t know.

Sam comes back upstairs with coffee and Dean thanks him profusely.

“I can’t do it, Sam. I can’t just unhook him and be done with it. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if I have to live with the fact that I killed him. I can’t have his blood on my hands too. I just can’t.”

“You don’t have to do it, Dean. You don’t. You can send him to a facility, you have the time to wait for him. I don’t know how everything will turn out. I’ll never know. But you don’t have to make this decision now. Okay?” Dean nods, thanking his brother once more.

Twenty eight days since the accident is the funeral for Jess. All her friends and family go, Dean goes, Sam goes… it’s a nice service. There’s a lot of crying. Dean feels that ball of guilt tearing him up from the inside out the entire time.

The ceremony for Jessica is more private. It’s just him and Sam. Instead of burying her they do that thing with the tree and it’s planned to be planted in their front yard as soon as winter fucks off. Dean hopes to God that it grows and grows and grows, like the Jessica never will. The tree will be planted in the spring, months after she died, but for the time being, it grows and grows and grows. Like Jessica never will.

Forty days in, the physical therapy is going well, and he should be able to go back to work in a few weeks. He doesn’t want to go back to work. Not until Cas wakes up.

On day fifty, he breaks down in front of Amelia.

“What if he never wakes up? What if he never does? But more importantly, what if he wakes up? What do I say to him? It’s been fifty days since he went into that coma and so much has happened- what am I supposed to say to him, how am I supposed to explai- explain any of this, all of this, everything and that it’s my fault and- and- and-” He can’t speak anymore. He’s heaving, his entire chest hurts as he’s trying to expel the sobs and the tears that he can’t keep holding back anymore. He can’t breathe and he feels Amelia’s hand on his back, moving in slow circles as he hunches down, curling in on himself and wrapping his arms around his chest. “It hurts so bad. I don’t want it to hurt. And it hurts so bad.”

On day fifty one Dean leaves the hospital that night to go to the bar that’s just a block down. He orders a finger of whiskey. And another. And another. He keeps ordering until Sam finally finds him and drags him out. When they reach the street Dean refuses to move.

“Dean, please, we need to get you home, you reek like booze. What if Cas wakes up tomorrow and sees you like this, smells you like this?” Sam insists.

“Why don’t you just fuck off, Mr. High and Mighty. Cas isn’t going to fucking wake up and you know it, so stop acting like a fucking child and accept it.” Sam grows stiff and doesn’t say another word as he drags Dean to the car before driving him home.

The next morning Dean mutters an embarrassed apology to Sam, who just nods curtly. Neither knows how to deal with fuckall.

On day sixty, Cas is moved to a normal hospital room. It’s been months of horror and worry, waiting for him to crash, waiting for the infection to spread; but he’s finally out of the woods, so to say, and he can have his own room.

On day sixty two Dean gets a medical bill. He goes back to the bar and gets more drunk than last time.

On day seventy Sam goes back to work. Dean can’t imagine how difficult a decision it must have been for him, and he’s proud of his baby brother. Dean knows that as soon as his hand is cleared, he should go back too, but… what if he wakes up? What then? What if Dean isn’t here and he wakes up? He can’t imagine it.

He gets drunk that night too.

On day seventy five his fingers twitch. It’s the smallest movement, the tiniest thing, but Dean sees it, he FUCKING sees it, and he calls the doctor in immediately, more excited than he has been in fucking weeks, months- and then the doctor tells him it’s an involuntary action that Cas’s body had. He’s probably been having a series of small, unconscious twitches the entire time.

Getting drunk has become a regular thing for Dean.

On day seventy nine Dean is cleared for work.

On day eighty one he decides he’s too fucking restless, and he goes back to the school.

He’s greeted with stares and whispers and everyone keeps looking at him. Why can’t they just mind their own damn business? Why can’t they just fuck off and leave him alone?

He’s been avoiding friends and family this whole time. Ellen and Bobby have, of course, forced their way into the hospital at least twice a week, come to every funeral, offered everything they could- but Dean can’t stand it. And Gabriel’s been even worse, because he can’t visit and he can’t make himself do it. He saw Cas on day one and then he left. He came to Claire’s funeral. And that was it. And Dean understands, because he knows how terrified Gabriel is to even look at his brother. So when he goes back to work, Dean knows that he has to face Claire, and that it means that he’ll likely have to face Gabriel soon, too.

And now that he’s decided to come back to work, it’s, if possible, even worse. He goes into the teacher’s lounge and it’s dead silent. Charlie crosses the room and embraces him, and Benny stands from the couch, but doesn’t say a word. What is there to say? Dean refused to see them for months because he couldn’t fucking handle it, and now he’s decided to come back, and that means that he needs to explain, that he’s expected to talk, and he doesn’t know how to do all that bullshit.

He muffles a thanks to Charlie before fleeing to the safety of his class, waiting endlessly for the bell to ring. When it does, Claire’s the first one in, and she looks shocked to see him.

*What are you doing here?* she signs. Dean lowers his eyes, clenching his jaw before looking up, preparing to sign, and realizing that he’s missing two fingers. He does his best to sign out:

*I was cleared for work. Cas isn’t going anywhere.* Claire nods slowly, sitting down at her desk, her eyes filled with concern as she watches Dean move across the room, writing things on the board and reading notes and just trying to keep from looking at his niece. When the class shuffles in right before the final bell, they’re all wide-eyed at seeing Dean. They sat down quietly, and Dean, having read what was going on the past couple months, gets started on preparing them for the exam that’s in four days. By the end of the period he’s exhausted.

But of course nothing can go right.

“Mr. Winchester?” Ed Zeddmore asks.

“Yeah, Ed?” Dean replies. Ed hesitates.

“We made you a card,” he says, standing and walking up to hand it to Dean, who takes it in his decent hand.

“Thank you. Thank you all,” Dean says to them, smiling and setting the card on his desk.

“Is-” Ed stops when Claire smacks his shoulder.

“Is what, Ed?” he asks, giving Claire a sharp look. She shrugs.

“Is your husband okay?” Ed’s voice is barely over a whisper. The entire class is waiting for an answer, all of their eyes on him. Dean clears his throat.

“I don’t know,” is all he says back.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Is your baby okay?”

“What’s her name?”

“Are you teaching for the rest of the year?”

“Stop!” he yells out, and they all freeze. Dean sighs, running his hand down his face. “Just- just stop.” They’re all silent, looking down at their feet. Dean raises his head. “This class isn’t about my personal life, got it? I understand that you’re all- curious. I’m honestly surprised your sub didn’t tell you everything. Look. Sometimes life just- really, REALLY sucks. And there’s not much you can do about it.” Dean licks his lips, running his mangled hand through his hair. “I don’t even know how to answer your questions, guys. It’s my first day back. Maybe cut me a little slack? I actually don’t know what I’m trying to say here, I think I might just be stalling until-” The bell goes, and Dean lets out a sigh of relief as they all shuffle out the door. Claire is the quickest of them, wiping her eyes as she goes. Ed stays behind after they all go.

He walks up to Dean, and wraps his arms around him. Dean’s startled, he doesn’t know what to do, and then he hugs him back. Ed sniffles against Dean’s shirts.

“My mom died on Christmas,” he says. Dean’s heart sinks. He barely even remembers Christmas. He just sat beside Cas. Was he still in the hospital? He can’t remember.

“I’m so sorry, Ed,” Dean says, because he can’t think of anything else to say. Ed lets go of him and backs up.

“So I know. How shitty- crappy, sorry, it all is. And that you won’t want to talk. So I’m sorry. About asking. I shouldn’t have done that.” He turns to go.

“Ed?”

“Yes, Mr. Winchester?” Dean runs his hand through his hair again.

“It gets better.” Ed smiles.

“I know. Thanks, Mr. Winchester.” With that, he leaves, and other students start filling in.

Every period after that one seems to repeat itself.

At the end of the day, Dean’s all packed up when he sees Benny standing in his doorway. Dean stops moving, just staring at his best friend.

“You pushed me away,” Benny says hoarsely. “And I didn’t know what to do. So I let you. Push me away.” Benny’s mouth opens and then closes, and he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. He lets out a deep, shuddering breath before he opens his eyes again. They’re red. “I let you do it.” He’s nodding his head. “I shouldn’t’a never let you do it, and I’m so- so sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Dean doesn’t realize that he’s been inching closer the entire time. Benny nods to himself, as if about to go, and Dean reaches out, grabbing his arm. He swallows harshly, trying to force the tears back into his eyes.

“You don’t- just don’t, man, okay?” Benny nods, giving him a small smile, and Dean pulls him into his arms. Benny squeezes him as hard as he can, and they stand there for longer than Dean knows they should have. Benny lets go with a sniff, wiping at his eyes. The look he gives dean floors him. There’s so much pain in that one look that Dean remembers. He remembers that this isn’t all about him. He lost his sister-in-law. His daughter. He maybe lose his husband. But it’s not all about him. There’s his friends, his family, Cas’s friends, family- they’re all hurting. Everyone’s hurting. Does Benny even know about Cas’s leg? That he’s in a regular hospital room? Dean feels like he’s being crushed to death and that there’s no one to help save him, but he knows he needs to push back, to push it away and let people in, because he’s not the only one hurting. He’s not.

And so he sits Benny down, and he tells him everything that happened. Everything that might happen. Everything that he’s afraid of.

Day eighty two is the day Dean returned to work.

On day eighty three, he wakes up feeling like he's slept for the first time in a very, very long time. He wakes up, and he doesn’t feel alone anymore.


	8. I love you

Day 100 is a very, very hard day. He takes it off work, sitting next to Cas with his hands resting between his legs. The cast was taken off of his hand a week ago, and now it’s been 100 days. Dean licks his lips and tentatively reaches out to touch Cas’s hand before bringing it into his own and then to his lips. Closing his eyes, he kisses his knuckles, each and every one. He reaches forwards, brushing the hair front Cas’s face, which is growing much longer than he likes, Dean knows. He knows Cas would want it cut, but he has no idea how to go about doing that. Dean sniffs through his nose, carefully placing Cas’s hand back on the bed and wiping it across his nose. He licks his lips again. Clenching his eyes shut, Dean leans forwards, wrapping his arms around himself. He sucks in a harsh breath, trying to stop the wetness from leaving his eyes. He squeezes himself ever tighter until he feels he can’t breathe.

“I love you,” he whispers through wet teeth and a slick tongue. “I love you more than you will ever know. But I can’t do this, Cas. I can do so much, but I can’t do THIS. I can’t watch you die anymore. I would want to die. All I would want would be to die. I can’t keep you alive on these machines anymore. I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you… but I can’t love you by watching you waste away to nothing.” Sniffing again, Dean tips his head back, blowing out a breath and sucking another in. The tears that he fought so hard to hold are on his cheeks. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick update- next chapter will be much longer.


	9. Safe at last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Christ this is late. Sorry, guys!

Going back to work was hard for Sam. He went back much earlier than Dean, as his spouse wasn’t alive, and he wasn’t injured. It hurt, to go back and sit in a chair at a desk and do an endless amount of paperwork, feeling as if he was wasting his life away. He would wake up, drive Dean to the hospital, drive himself to work, do his mindless typing, go to the hospital and sit with Dean, and force him to come home. Often times if he worked too late, the nurses would tell him that Dean left ages ago, and Sam would walk down the street to go to the bar and drag Dean back to the car, reeking like booze.

Eventually, Dean went back to work, like Sam. Sam would still drop Dean off at the hospital in the morning, very, very early in the morning. He would stay with him until Dean needed to leave for work, and he would then go home and get ready for work himself. The school closed earlier than Sam ended work, so Dean would often have to walk to the hospital from the school. Sam was always nervous at that time of the day, restless, checking his phone constantly and texting Dean about his day and asking over and over again if Dean had made it to the hospital.

Sam felt exhausted all the time. He would wake in the night just to check on Dean and make sure he was alive. He would call the hospital and make sure that Castiel was alive. He would check the bathroom, the kitchen, the couch, the third bedroom, just to make sure his life wasn’t a dream and that Jess was still dead.

These last few months had been hard on Dean, but they had also been hard on Sam. Sam wouldn’t let himself feel bad, these past 100 days. He wouldn’t let himself have a second of time to worry about his own feelings, to try and figure out what was wrong with him. He didn’t go to therapy anymore, though he pretended to, just so Dean would continue to go to his meetings. Instead, Sam would wander around the town, visiting Jess’s favourite shops, restaurants. He would go and visit Bobby, tell him how he was doing. He would waste all the time he could because he felt that it was all he could do.

It’s the 100th day since the accident, and Sam feels sick to his stomach. He can’t get the day off of work, though he knows that Dean will spend the entire day by Castiel’s side. He wants to be there with him, to console his brother and let him know that he doesn’t have to do this alone, doesn’t have to face the next hundred days alone or however many come after. The whole day Sam sits tapping away at his desk, checking his phone and the time constantly, waiting endlessly for six to roll around so he can get to the hospital, so he can hug his brother and tell him that everything will be alright.

Sam knows what’s going to happen. He knows that Castiel won’t wake up. He’s spoken with the doctors countless times and they’ve always told him the same thing, every time- ‘there’s always hope, even in a hopeless situation. Castiel’s brain has no sign of activity or that he’s still in there, but there is always a chance.’ Sam knows that the doctors are lying out of their asses. Cas won’t wake up, there was no hope of him waking up from the beginning. He knows that he’ll lay in that bed and wither away until eventually there’s nothing left but skin, bones, and those machines, pumping air in his lungs and pumping food down his throat, keeping alive for as long as those godforsaken machines will run.

Sam shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, trying to focus on his work. He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes, wondering if he’s ever really been awake these past 100 days. He yawns, hiding it with his hand. One of his coworkers walks past, her eyebrows pushed together and her mouth pinched. Sam smiles grimly, nodding at her before turning back to his computer. He wishes he was in court- that might distract him. But he’s stuck behind this desk, typing away and filing and researching and helping other big shot lawyers, waiting for the day he’ll have someone of his own to do this boring shit. Sam blows out a long breath, looking at the clock once more. Just another hour and he can leave, go to the hospital and sit next to his brother in silence while they watch his husband slowly die.

Sam can’t get these thoughts out of his head. He can’t stop thinking about Jess and her cold, pale face. He can’t stop thinking of Jessica, how small she was, how young and how innocent. He can’t stop thinking of Castiel, his leg missing, his arm mangled, his eyes closed and the tubes running all over his body. He can’t stop thinking of Dean and how dead he looks, as dead as Castiel, as dead as Jess. His brother, who thinks he’s getting along so well, but he’s not, Sam knows he’s not. Sam knows that he himself is in a bad place too, that he might even be worse than Dean, but he doesn’t have to watch himself sit next to the man he loves day in and day out, hoping for a miracle that won’t come.

Sam is sick and tired of waiting. He’s sick and tired of watching. He doesn’t know what to do.

Six rolls around and Sam stands, hurriedly, shoving papers into his brief case and rushing out of the office, going to the parking garage and practically running down the stairs to get to the level that his car is on. When he reaches the car he unlocks it, but trips and drops his keys. Cursing, he bends to pick them up, not looking around himself, and when he stands he whacks his head off of the mirror of his car.

“Fuck!” he yells out, rubbing at the back of his head. “Fuck. Fuck, fucking fuck.” Sam blinks rapidly, dropping his briefcase to the ground and running his hands through his hair over and over again. Sam moves away from his car, muttering curses under his breath as he walks back into the road, shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes. He stops, looking at the car, and takes a deep breath. “You can do this,” he tells himself, “you can do this.” He makes his way back over to the car and picks his briefcase up off the ground. He gets in the car, putting the briefcase on the passenger seat before he puts the key in the ignition and backs out of the parking spot.

On the drive over, Sam shuts himself down, just listens to the music pouring out of the radio and tries to have this drive be full of peace, be full of quiet. He doesn’t want to think about anything that’s happened or that might happen or anything, really. He just wants to be numb for as long as he can. When he pulls into the parking lot, Sam sits in the car, pulling off his tie and tossing it next to the briefcase. He takes yet another deep breath, and another. He nods to himself before exiting the car, pulling his jacket tight around him as he hurries across the snow slick road and into the hospital. He nods at the nurses at the registration desk before he heads over to the elevator. He dings the button to make his way to Castiel’s floor, riding the elevator and impatiently tapping his foot on the floor.

When he reaches the floor, he licks his lips, walking down the seemingly endless hall to reach his brother-in-law’s room. He reaches the door and steels himself before he grabs the knob, turning it and opening the door. There’s a nurse by Castiel’s bed and Dean is standing behind her. He looks up when he sees his brother. Sam’s eyes widen.

“Are you ready, Mr. Winchester?” the nurse asks. Sam’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly. Dean looks down at his husband and smiles softly.

“We’ve all already said our goodbyes,” he says, looking up at Sam, who flicks his eyes from Castiel to Dean. “I’m ready.”

“Wait!” Sam yells desperately, eyes wild. The nurse hesitates. Dean looks at his brother with pain in his eyes.

“Sam, he’s gone,” Dean tells him, his voice strained. “He’s BEEN gone, since the day they brought him in here. You have to let me let him go.”

“Dean, please, I’m begging you- he can pull through this, he can get through. The doctor’s-”

“Have been telling me since day one that there’s a slim chance he’ll make it. And from day fucking one- I’ve been hanging onto that, but Sam, LOOK AT HIM. He’s NOT getting better, he’s not GOING to get better, and I can’t watch him die any longer.”

“Dean, please, just give it a little longer! He’s in there, I’m sure of it, I’m sure!”

“Sam!” Dean snaps. The nurse backs away from the machine as Sam flinches. Dean’s face softens. “Sam. Gabriel and Claire came by today. Gabriel gave me his permission. He agrees that- that it’s time.”

“Don’t you love him, Dean?” Sam says, eyes pleading with his brother, taking a step into the room.

“Don’t you fucking dare say that to me. Don’t you fucking dare. I love him more than anything in this world, Sam. You and him are all I have left, and I love you both more than ANYTHING. I love him too much to do this to him any longer. So don’t you dare say that to me.”

“I would do anything, ANYTHING, to have even a chance with Jess, and you’re just- just throwing this chance away! Shitting this chance away, making sure that there’s no way that he can come back!”

“SAM! Listen to me! This ISN’T your decision! It’s not.” Tears are falling down Dean’s face. “It’s mine. And I need to do this, for him. Not for me, not for you- for him. He deserves more than this, more than wasting away. He does.” Sam blinks rapidly, taking shaking breaths and biting his lip. “Sam. I’m doing this whether you want me to or not. You can stay or you can go.” Sam looks up at his brother and crosses the room, grabbing him by the shoulders and pressing him tightly against himself. Dean hugs him back, wrapping his arms around his brother and squeezing.

“Okay,” Sam says. “Okay, Dean.” Sam lets his brother go. Dean moves back to Castiel’s side, reaching down and taking his husband’s hand in his own. He brushes his fingers across the back of his hand. Dean turns towards the nurse.

“I- we’re ready,” he tells her. She nods, moving back to the machine. She clicks a few buttons and the monitors go black. She reaches behind the machine that has the tube leading into Castiel’s throat. She clicks something at the back of it, and a whooshing breath leaves Castiel as he goes still. Dean keeps Castiel’s hand in his, not taking his eyes off of his face. The nurse goes around the other side of the bed and removes the tube from Castiel’s throat. Dean takes a seat next to his husband, Sam sitting next to him. Dean reaches forwards, touching his mouth, his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead. “I’ll never forget,” he whispers, tears falling down his cheeks. Sam wraps an arm around Dean’s shoulders, looking at Castiel with him.

“He’s gone,” Sam whispers.

“He’s safe,” Dean breathes. He trails his fingers down his neck, down his arms, across his chest. Dean sniffs, wiping at his eyes with his mangled hand. “He’s safe.”


	10. The next ten years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The grand finale! Fifteen pages long, and quite a great deal of work for me. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!

Sam finds Dean three days later on the floor of a bar, passed out, an empty shot of tequila in his hand. The owner said he had fallen off of the stool, unconscious, and when they opened his wallet and saw his license and Sam’s business card, they called.

Sam, with the help of the owner, hauls Dean out to the car, somehow fitting him in the backseat.

The next morning Dean is gone.

This time it’s a week before Sam finds him again. This time it’s when he drives by Dean’s house, as he does every day, three times a day, and he finds Dean against the door, half his face swollen and bloody, chest heaving up and down. Sam slams on the breaks and runs to his brother, who feebly tries to push him away.

The doctor says it’s a broken nose, and it should heal in a few days.

Sam takes Dean back to his apartment.

The next morning, Dean is gone.

All that Sam can feel is panic, panic swallowing him up, creeping up the back of his neck and grabbing hold of his brain and trying to force him to scream and run and go find his brother. He fights it every second of the day, but the image of Dean after they left Castiel in that hospital bed keep resurfacing, his brother’s dead eyes and slack face. He remembers how they had screamed at each other that night, Dean telling him he would never understand, to just let him be, that he deserved to die anyway after killing his daughter and husband. And then he was gone. Sam spent the whole night searching for him.

And now, a week and a half later, it’s the third time Dean has left. Sam’s called Bobby and Ellen and Benny and Charlie, even Ash, asking them to be on the lookout again. All of them express their worry and Sam can tell their as panicked as he is. None of them know what to do, how to keep him with them, how to cope. Sam has no idea when Castiel’s funeral will be. Sam has no idea if Dean wants him cremated. Sam doesn’t KNOW and it’s so frustrating. He just doesn’t know.

A week later, the coroner calls, telling Sam that the body is cremated and ready to be picked up. He says that the husband called to confirm this type of burial. Sam throws his phone against the wall and shatters it.

When he picks up the urn, he sits in the car and cries.

A month and no word from Dean.

Two, three, four.

They’ve called the police, they have missing posters everywhere, ads online, calling all the family they know.

He’s just gone.

Sam spends all of his time working. Working and trying to force himself to forget, trying to force himself to move on from Castiel, and now from Dean. He’s stopped putting up signs. He’s stopped asking everyone everywhere if they’ve seen his brother. His friends, Dean’s friends, are angry at him for giving up. Sam’s too tired to care. If Dean wanted to be found, he would be.

Sam gets drunk every night to the numb the pain, and every night it doesn’t work.

Five months since Dean has left. Jessica’s tree has been planted in a public park. Sam’s been paying everyone’s medical bills. The bank took Dean’s house and everything in it.

Sam thinks this is what it must be like to lose your mind.

Bobby gets a call two days after the six month anniversary of Dean’s disappearance. It’s Sam’s work, saying he hasn’t been into the office for three days. Bobby drives to Sam’s apartment faster than he ever has before.

Sam wakes in the hospital, groggy and unsure of his surroundings. His head is killing him and his mouth is dry as the desert.

“Wh-” is all he manages to get out, swallowing painfully. Everything hurts.

“Hey, don’t you move, stay right there, I’m getting the doctor.” Sam’s fairly certain it’s Ellen’s voice he heard but he can’t be sure, the room is spinning, everything is spinning. He sees white, so much white, and he hears a garbled voice. He doesn’t make out any of the words. He hears them again, sees a light in his eyes, and everything goes black. Sweet, blissful black.

Sam wakes up fully the next day. He knows because this time the pain in his head isn’t a dull throbbing but a knife stabbing his brain repeatedly.

“Bobby,” he croaks out, but gets no response. He tries to look around the room, but can’t, his eyes burning. What the hell happened to him? He sees someone enter the room and then immediately leave. He registers that the next person is a doctor.

“Samuel Winchester, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Sam croaks out, coughing and tensing as a flash of pain rips through his body.

“Sam, do you know where you are?”

“The hospital. Why- why am I here?”

“You had a fall, Sam, hit your head off of the tub in your bathroom. Mr. Singer saved your life.”

He fell? He hit his head? So what? It’s not like he hasn’t done it before.

“Why-” Sam tries to swallow- bad choice. “Why do I hurt?”

“Sam, you were on the bathroom floor for nearly three days. You’ve been unconscious for eight days. You were more than half dead when you came in here, son. You’re very lucky to be alive, if Mr. Singer hasn’t found you when he did… You have a bandage on your head from the fall, and you were severely dehydrated. You had lost a lot of blood as well, and we were worried about potential brain damage, but the tests came back clear. I’m going to ask you to…”

Sam zones out. He does what the doctor asks. He hears him say that everything looks good. Bobby comes in. Ellen comes in. Bobby starts yelling at him, saying that going and getting drunk and nearly killing yourself isn’t even close to the way to handle this. Sam’s jaw is clenched shut and he’s doing everything in his power not to scream. He can hear the heart monitor rise. A nurse escorts Bobby and Ellen from the room.

Sam feels guilty for being glad.

He’s out of the hospital in two more days.

Another month. Another. Eight and a half months with no word from Dean. Jess has been dead for a year. Sam hasn’t slept since. When he does sleep, he’s blackout drunk.

Ten months since Dean left.

Sam is doing better. He’s going to therapy, he’s slowly getting happy, he’s slowly regaining his life. He hasn’t had a drink in two months. He can sleep. He doesn’t just go to work anymore. He goes to see Gabriel, he visits Claire. He and Benny have become fast friends and find themselves with each other more often than not. Eventually Benny mentions that his apartment lease is nearly up and his roommate is leaving- does Sam need a place to stay?

Sam says yes immediately.

He knows then that he’s finally moving on.

Dean’s been gone for a year. Sam thinks about him every single day. He and Benny have a dog. He feels… he feels like something’s going on, with him and Benny. He doesn’t feel like their friends. But he can’t explain it to himself, he can’t make himself think about it. He likes it in that apartment, with his friend and their dog, and he lets himself enjoy whatever it is.

Fourteen months since Dean left. Sam’s been promoted at work and he now has his own office. He still thinks about Dean and Jess every day, but it hurts less. He and Benny are still sharing their apartment.

Seventeen months since Dean left. The police call Sam, as they do monthly, informing him that there are no updates on his brother. Sam thanks them, as he does monthly, and hangs up the phone.

He and Benny have an empty room in their two bedroom apartment.

It’s been a year and a half since Dean left.

Sam’s out for a walk with their dog, Thor, a golden retriever with long flowing hair, when he hears someone say “Heya Sammy” much too softly, and much too familiarly.

Sam’s heart is in his throat when he turns around. His brother has a tan, and his hair is longer, shaggier. His freckles are more pronounced, and his eyes don’t look as sad as they were that year and a half ago. He doesn’t reek like booze and he’s not wearing their father’s leather jacket.

Sam punches him in the face.

………..

“What the FUCK are you doing here? Where the EVERLOVING FUCK WERE YOU, DEAN? It’s been a year and half! A year and a FUCKING HALF- do you have ANY idea what you’ve done to me? Did you EVER consider what might happen to me after you left? You selfish fucking PRICK!” Sam screams, he can’t stop screaming, cursing his brother and just yelling. He can see people staring and he doesn’t care. Dean wipes blood from under his nose and reaches his hand out.

“The least you can do is help me up.” All of the anger leaves Sam’s body as he stares at that outstretched hand, those mournful eyes. He reaches out and pulls his brother to his feet and then into his arms, he can’t stop crying, he can’t stop hurting, he was getting better and now it’s all crashing down on top of him, he can’t stop, he can’t stop. Dean’s rubbing his back in soothing circles and he wants to hate him, he wants to hate him with all of his being, but he’s just so relieved that his brother is alive, he’s just so relieved that he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there. They’re interrupted by Thor pawing at Sam’s leg and whining. Sam steps away from Dean, kneeling and petting the dog’s head. He doesn’t stand for a long moment.

“Sam?”

“I’m just. I’m thinking. Give me a second to wrap my head around this.” He squeezes his eyes shut and stands, gripping Thor’s leash tightly.

“Is there somewhere we can to talk?” Dean asks him. Sam sighs.

“Yeah, yeah I know a place.”

Ten minutes later they’re sitting in a small coffee shop owned by Sam’s old college friend Zach. He brings them their drinks and sandwiches and Sam thanks him profusely for allowing Thor inside the restaurant. Zach looks fondly at the dog and tells him not to worry about it.

“I don’t know where to begin,” Dean hedges.

“How about when you left eighteen months ago?”

Dean sighs.

“Yeah, yeah that’s a good start.” He flicks his eyes up at his brother and then back down to the cup of coffee in his hands. He opens his mouth and then closes it. “I was in a real bad place when Cas died.” Sam snorts and Dean looks at him sharply.

“I’m not going to apologize. We were all in a bad place. You’re the only one who left. So fuck you.” Dean purses his lips.

“I guess that’s fair. I… I don’t know what happened, I went into that hospital with the holy shit beaten out of me and I just… I realized I wasn’t going to see another day sober if I stayed here.” He looks up. “I wasn’t going to be able to live if I stayed in this town another second.”

“So you just left, no note, no goodbyes, no nothing?” Dean shrugs.

“Yeah. It wasn’t exactly planned out, Sam. I… I headed south, down to Texas, got some work at a mechanic’s shop in Dallas, didn’t think, just got my hands greasy and did what I know how to do.” Sam shakes his head.

“You lost your job, your house- we thought you were dead, Dean, there was no word, we- we thought you were dead.” Dean sighs heavily.

“I think in a way I was,” he admits. “I think… Cas was the love of my life. He still is. But… but Sammy, I need to tell you something. Something important.” Sam’s stomach drops.

“What did you do, Dean?” Dean shakes his head. “Dean, what did you DO?”

“I got drunk. Blackout drunk. Moving to Texas didn’t seem to help that. I could work all I wanted to during the day, but at night… at night he haunted me, Sam. His… his face, his laugh, his voice- it hurt so much. I needed a way to make it stop hurting.” The shame on his face was more than Sam could handle.

“What did you do?”

“I went to the bar. I nearly drank myself to death. And I woke up in some woman’s bed. I grabbed my clothes and hightailed it the fuck out of there, but she wasn’t stupid, she knew where I went every night. She knew. And so a month later she came back in and she dragged me away from the bar and she slapped me in the face.”

“Dean-”

“I have a daughter, Sam.”

Sam’s heart stopped.

“What?”

“Her name is Emma.”

“Stop.”

“And she’s six months old.”

“For the love of God, stop talking.”

“She’s back in Texas with her mother.”

“Dean shut up.”

“Her mother’s name is Lydia. We aren’t together, we take turns with her.”

“Dean, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Dean’s mouth snaps closed.

“Sam,” he says softly, “I’m sorry. For everything. I-” He squeezes his eyes closed, bringing his hands up to his face and running them through his too-long hair. “I fucked up. I ran away from my problems, and all it did was fuck me over. I made so many mistakes. So many. I don’t- I don’t even know who I am anymore. Everything that happened to me, to us, in the last… I’m not me anymore, Sammy. I look in the mirror, and- and I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. I guess that’s why I came back. To try- to try and make this right between us. Between all of us.”

“I almost died a year ago.” Dean looks like Sam punched him in the face again. “I got drunk every single day. One of those days, I fell, I cracked my head open, and three days later Bobby found me half dead. I was out for a week, and it took much longer than that to get back on my feet. I still got drunk every day. I paid your medical bills. I made sure Cas’s ashes were safe when your house was foreclosed on. I called the school to tell them you’d been reported missing. Your kids wondered where you were. Your family, your friends, ME- and then, and now, you’re just back. And you’re telling me you fucked some Texan girl and now you have a kid. You’re telling me that you completely forgot the love of your life and just fucked this girl three months after he died and now BAM you have a kid, you’ve forgotten about the kid you already had, and- and-” Sam can feel himself getting hysterical, he can see the pain all over Dean’s face, but he just can’t stop. “You’re sitting here in front of me telling me that you couldn’t even fucking CALL me because you were too busy figuring yourself out and fucking your way across Texas. You’re sitting here trying to apologize and trying to explain yourself for something unforgivable and for something unexplainable. I couldn’t breathe for a year, Dean, for a fucking year, and right when I’m starting to accept things and move on with my fucking life, you just show up. You show up and you tear everything to shit and you try and play the woe is fucking me, my husband and my baby are dead, but hey, by the fucking way, I’ve got a new girlfriend and a new baby and a new family and you can all go fuck yourselves. Is that a nice summary of your little monologue?” Sam stands from the table. He throws a twenty dollar bill on the table. “Go fuck yourself.”

Sam grabs Thor’s leash and leaves the cafe and his brother, ignoring the tears that are slowly streaming down his face.

He’s angry.

He’s fucking furious.

He doesn’t know what to do.

………..

He ignores Benny’s calls all day. He had dropped Thor off at the house and left Benny a note saying that he would be back later that night and not to worry. Benny calls anyways.

Benny finds him in the bar a block away from their apartment. He’s been looking at the same shot of tequila for four hours. When Benny gently touches his shoulder, Sam breaks down.

The next morning when he wakes up, he tells Benny everything.

………..

Dean goes back to his motel room after stopping at a convenience store along the way and grabbing a pack of ice. His nose fucking hurts. When he gets back to the motel, he slams the door shut and throws himself on his bed. He wants to scream, he wants to throw things, he wants to hit something- but most of all he wants to drink. He doesn’t, though. He doesn’t for Emma’s sake. He has someone now, he has someone he needs to stay sober for, someone that’s the most important thing in his life. But as he lays on that bed thinking about what Sam said to him, the urge grows stronger and stronger. All he wants to do is find a bar and die there.

He stands from the shitty motel bed, not able to take it any longer. He grabs his jacket and opens the door- his phone rings, a picture of Lydia and Emma coming up on the screen. Dean closes the door and sits down at the small kitchenette table. He looks at his phone for a moment before sighing and sliding it to the side.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Did you make it there okay?” Lydia asks. They aren’t together. They never were. Lydia swore on her life the baby was his. The paternity test proved her right. They put aside their differences for the baby, and they decided to raise her to the best of their ability, but that they were not together in any way. It doesn’t stop Lydia from calling him to make sure he’s all right, though. Just because they aren’t fucking anymore doesn’t mean they aren’t friends. At least that’s what Dean tells himself.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, one hand over his face.

“How’s that going?”

“As shitty as I expected it to,” Dean mutters.

“So I guess you probably should’ve called first?” she jokes. Dean doesn’t laugh.

“How’s Emma?”

“Fine. She’s sleeping. For once. She misses you already, keeps pushing me away at bedtime and looking for you. Smart already. How long will this take, Dean?”

“As long as it has to. Listen, I can Skype with her, let her see me, hopefully that will be enough-”

“Shit, she’s awake. I’ll call you tomorrow. Come back soon, okay?” The call ends. Dean puts the phone in his pocket. It feels heavier than it did before.

He wants that drink more than ever.

He kicks off his shoes and goes to sleep.

………..

Benny punches Dean in the face when he sees him.

“My regular greeting,” Dean says gruffly, standing and spitting out blood. He’s getting sick of biting his goddam tongue that hard.

“You son a bitch,” Benny breathes. “You son of a fucking bitch.” He pulled Dean forwards and gave him a bear hug. “I fucking hate you. God, I fucking hate you.”

“Love you too, man.” Benny steps back, hands on Dean’s shoulders, looking him up and down.

“You’re a fucking jackass, Dean Winchester. Do you have any idea what you did to us? What you did to your brother? Do you have any fucking idea?”

“Wait, why do you know what I did to-” Dean pauses when he sees Sam standing in the doorway to Benny’s room. His jaw clenches. “When did he move in? Did he lose his apartment? What’s going on?”

“Sam and I live together,” Benny states simply.

“Clearly,” Dean says with a gesture towards his brother.

“Dean,” Benny says softly, giving him a direct look. “We live together.” Dean bites at his lip, shaking his head.

“Wow, Sam, way to be a hypocrite.” Benny slams the door in his face. He can hear them yelling on the other side. Dean moves backwards until he hits the wall and slides down. His head is swimming. Sam is gay? Bisexual? Whatever the fuck- why is this happening, when did this happen, his best friend and- what the fuck is going on? Dean stands from the floor, shaking his head. He can’t deal with this, not right now. He leaves the building, making his way back to the Impala.

Gabriel’s reaction isn’t much better than the rest. He opens the door, slams it closed it surprise, and then opens it again, mouth not able to work.

After an hour trying to explain himself to Gabe, and being hit by his niece, he leaves to go where he’s dreading most; Bobby and Ellen’s. When Ellen opens the door, her face goes completely white. He can hardly believe that Sam didn’t call them, but at the same time, a lot happened and he isn’t exactly sure of his brother’s mental state.

“You’re dead,” were the first words out of Ellen’s mouth. Dean didn’t move, didn’t speak. Ellen shook her head. “No, you’re dead, we- we’ve been lookin’ for- for over a year, you’re- you’re-” Dean pulls her into his arms. She fights him, pushing back and shaking her head, but he just pulls her closer.

“I’m real, Ellen. I’m real.” She wraps her arms around him, still crying. Dean feels a massive wave of guilt wash over him.

“Ellen?” he hears Bobby yell. “Who’s at the doo-” He stops when he sees Dean from the back hallway. His face hardens, and he walks away. Ellen is shaking in Dean’s arms.

“I’m so sorry, Ellen. I’m so sorry.”

………..

Bobby screams at him. Ellen cries for the first time in Dean doesn’t know how long. Jo slaps him in the face. Dean leaves with bags under his eyes and his shoulders slumped. He’s exhausted. He wants to hold his baby. He wants to hold Cas. He wants to go home.

He isn’t sure how he managed to be sitting in front of their old house; Sam’s right, the bank foreclosed, but someone else bought it. Dean can see them in the front yard from where he’s parked across the street; the father is outside with his sleeves rolled up, a briefcase on the front porch, pushing one kid on the tire swing while two more run around the yard playing tag. The oldest can’t be more than eight.

The front door opens and a heavily pregnant woman appears, one hand on her stomach. Dean can see that she’s mouthing dinner, and the two youngest ones end their game of tag to run towards her. She picks up the smallest, Dean thinks she looks around two, and kisses her cheek. The father picks the oldest one off of the tire swing and throws her over his shoulder. Dean can hear her shrieking even through the glass of the Impala. The family disappears inside, and Dean can feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones.

Dean drives back to Sam’s- Benny’s apartment building. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go- he tried Charlie’s phone and he tried her apartment, but she’s seems to have vanished. He parks in front of the building, staring up at the window he knows is Benny’s.

Taking a deep breath, Dean gets out of the car.

The elevator ride is agonizing.

When he reaches the door and knocks, Sam is the one to answer. Dean thrusts his phone in his brother’s face, who grabs it just before it falls, looking at the screen.

“That was taken a week ago,” Dean mutters. The picture is of Emma and Dean, Emma smiling her big, gummy smile, Dean laughing as he holds her close to his face. Lydia had taken it with her camera and emailed it to him. Sam’s features soften.

“You look happy,” he whispers. Dean snorts; he can’t help himself.

“I’m a fuckin’ mess, Sam. A fuckin’ mess. That kid-” He jabs his finger at the phone, “is the only damn thing that makes sense anymore. Out of all the horseshit, she’s it. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for not calling. I’m sorry for freaking the fuck out and being an absolute ass, and I’m sorry you think I’m a piece of shit and I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I- I’m glad you found someone else, Sam. I’m sorry that you think I just forgot about- about Jessica and Cas and Jess, because I didn’t. Not a day passes that I don’t miss him, that I- I don’t wish he was in my bed, he was holding my hand, that I could just SEE him… but I’m not sorry for that little girl. Everything happens for a reason. I wish to Christ Cas wasn’t dead, I wish to Christ Jessica and Jess weren’t dead, and I feel so fucking guilty, because at the same time, I’m- I’m glad that I have this kid, this perfect, perfect kid, regardless of how she came into this world. I would do anything for her, Sam. Anything. And I fucking hate myself, because I know, I know that if I had to go back, I know now… I wouldn’t change it. Because of her. She’s everything man, she’s everything… I guess I just wanted to say my piece. I’ve been to see everyone, and I need to head back soon. I can’t be away from work for long and I can’t leave Emma for much longer.” Dean reaches his hand out for his phone, but Sam keeps it, scrolling through the pictures. Dean’s chest tightens. They’re all of Emma until they aren’t.

He can tell when Sam’s moved past the baby pictures, because the soft smile leaves his face and his finger pauses above the screen before he continues to swipe. Dean knows all of the pictures by heart. He and Cas at dinner, he and Cas drinking coffee, a picture of the Impala, Cas passed out on the couch with a book, a picture of Cas signing while lecturing, Sam and Cas in the nursery, a picture of Sam and Jess kissing that Dean sneaked, Cas with his ear against Jess’s stomach, Dean’s hand on her stomach, Jess laughing, Sam drinking coffee, Dean’s figure through the glass in the shower, Cas brushing his teeth with Dean in the background, a positive pregnancy test, Dean giving the camera a thumbs up at the doctor’s office, Jess grinning in her hospital gown with Sam looking worried. Sam stops scrolling. Dean doesn’t blame him.

Sam looks up at him with nothing short of pain in his eyes. Dean knows that Sam must have similar pictures on his phone, but he’s guessing that he didn’t expect Dean to keep his too. Sam clears his throat.

“Dean… I don’t hate you. I’m so happy you’re back, and I’m so happy you’re alive, you have no fucking idea. But I… I don’t know, man. You were just GONE. And I never thought I would get over it. But somehow I did, and somehow you came back, and now… Everything’s changed. We’ve changed. I want you in my life, Dean, but it takes time, and it’s going to take a hell of a long time to build this trust up again, to build any kind of trust up again. Do you understand?” Dean gives him a curt nod, and Sam hands his phone back. “When can I meet them?”

“Who?”

“This new girlfriend and baby of yours.”

“Oh. Lydia isn’t my girlfriend, we just… hooked up, and then Emma came out of it. I don’t know that Lydia would let me take her out of the state, but you can come visit anytime, Sam, I want you to come to see me, I want to drive back here- I want that more than anything. For us to be brothers again,” Dean pleaded.

“Let’s just start with Skype calls.” Dean smiles, and Sam gives him a hesitant smile back.

Dean leaves for Dallas two days later. Everyone sees his off at the motel- Sam, Benny, Ellen, Bobby, Jo, Gabe, Claire- and Dean is so grateful that he can hardly to stand to look at them all. He hugs everyone. People cry. Dean doesn’t, because he can’t at this point. Hell, he even pets the dog goodbye. And then he leaves. And everyone left standing in that parking lot doesn’t know what to do. No matter how angry they were that Dean left them, they were all so happy to have him back that they knew they could forgive him and they just wanted to see him every day again. And now he’s gone. Again. Of course this time with an actual phone number and address, but still gone. It feels like there’s a void in their lives once more.

Dean feels the same.

Over the course of the next year, Sam and Dean visit back and forth near constantly, whenever one or the other has a spare moment. Dean always feels busy between work, Emma, and answering emails, phone calls, Skype messages- he has more obligation now than he did in the past year and a half, but he couldn’t be happier because of it.

After a year of building trust and reconnecting with his family, Dean disappears again. Dean and Sam call three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Dean missed every call. Sam called and called and called, but no answer on his cell. When he called the house, Lydia told him she had been about to call him and ask where the fuck his brother was.

Sam panicked. He told work he needed some time off for an emergency, he kissed Benny goodbye, and he drove straight to Texas. When he knocks on Dean’s apartment door, there’s no answer. He goes to Lydia’s house next, pounding on the door, and she flings it open, leaving it as it is while she paced back and forth with a crying Emma.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam asks. Lydia looks stressed and pale, worry lines crossing her face as she frowns, rocking the baby in her arms.

“I’m pregnant,” she says curtly.

“Well you get right to the point, don’t you,” Sam says, shocked.

“Yeah, I’m sick of bullshitting around with everything.”

“Who’s is it?” Sam asks, sitting down on the couch and running his hands through his hair. Of course. Dean left because he couldn’t stand the thought of Lydia having someone else’s kid. As much as his brother claims he and Lydia aren’t in a relationship and are just raising this kid and staying friends for her sake, Sam knows differently. He knows that Dean will never really be over Cas, but he also knows that Lydia is the happiest he’s felt since his husband’s death.

“Dean’s.” Sam blinks.

“What?”

“It’s Dean’s baby. There’s no way it’s anyone else’s.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, Sam, when a woman and a man love each other very much-”

“No, no, Christ, no, I don’t understand why he’s left again.”

“Because in case you haven’t caught on, Dean runs when he can’t deal with his emotions. He goes to a bar and he drinks himself half to death and then he shows up who the fuck knows how much longer later. You know this as well as I do, if not better.”

“But it’s his kid, why would he run away? He stayed for Emma!”

“Not at first. The second I told him I was pregnant, he was gone. He came back three weeks later, reeking of booze, and demanded a paternity test. After that, he sobered up and stuck around until Emma was born, and until last week, when he took off again.”

“I still don’t get it, why is he freaking out if it’s his kid? I just don’t get it, not after Cas and Jess.”

“We slept together three weeks ago. It was an accident. Well, as much of an accident as it could be. Neither of us has been with anyone since I found out I was pregnant- that’s a pretty long dry spell from two people who are used to getting fucked on the regular. And it just… happened. Emma was asleep, and, y’know.”

“Yeah, but you guys would have been careful-”

“I think it might have been one of the other times we fucked in the course of the week after. And then the four days after that. And then the week and a half until I told him I was pregnant.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“How the fuck did that even happen?”

“We’ve both been telling ourselves that we’re in this for the kid, when in reality I think that the last two and a half years have been something else. Sam… your brother loved his husband more than I can ever fathom. I don’t think he’ll ever be over it, and I know that he’ll never feel about me as he did about Castiel, but… he does care for me. I know that. And now he knows that, and he’s panicking, because he feels like he needs to be upset over their deaths for the rest of his life, and that by being happy he’s shitting on their memories. Sam. You need to find him, and you need to help him or get him help, because they way he’s living, the way he HAS been living- it’s going to kill him.” Sam sits quietly, not sure what to say. Right when he opens his mouth, the front door opens.

………..

Sam leaves the next day. He watched Emma the previous night while Dean and Lydia left to talk. Sam doesn’t know what they said to each other, but when they returned in the morning, Dean looked like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

As he drives home, Sam knows somehow that everything will be alright.

………..

Dean and Lydia date for six months before they both decide to break it off. Lydia says she feels like Dean will never truly care for her. Dean says he feels so much guilt he could drown.

………..

Sam convinces his brother to return to therapy. Dean attends twice weekly meetings for two months, and at the end of it, he calls his brother and he thanks him profusely. Sam even thinks he means it.

………..

Sam and Dean have very busy lives. Dean runs the mechanics shop in Texas, Sam has his own law firm, and both of them have kids to keep up with. Benny and Sam married two years after Dean’s son was born. They adopted their twin girls, Bethany and Carly, three years after that. With the two brothers both having so much to do, making cross country visits was nearly impossible. So they decided to meet up annually, switching between their homes every year.

This year, six years since Dean’s son was born, they’re all in Dallas, Benny on twin duty while Dean and Sam sit in lawn chairs and thank the lucky stars that they aren’t having to deal with that.

“So,” Sam says casually, and Dean knows exactly what’s coming. He groans and Sam laughs. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, Sam, I haven’t been on a date since that one ginger weirdo two years ago. You know that.” Sam is quiet.

“Are you sure you and Lydia won’t get back together?”

“I don’t think Felix would appreciate that, Sam.”

“Well that aren’t married!”

“The wedding is in six months!”

“Yeah, well… whatever,” Sam grumbles. Dean just shakes his head.

“I think I’m okay with being single. Single dad Dean to the rescue, y’know? I like my life, I like my kids. I don’t need much else now that you’re here with Benny and the Nightmare Twins.”

“Hey, they aren’t nightmares!”

“Sam, they are literally pouring Kool Aid down your husband’s shirt.” Sam’s head snaps to the side, and he lets out a laugh at the look on Benny’s face.

“Better him than me,” Sam grins. Emma runs by in front of them, followed by the male version of her.

“Whoa, buddy!” Dean yells, scooping the boy into the crook of his arm and pulling him onto his lap.

“Dad!” he exclaims, wiggling in his father’s grip. Sam chuckles.

“Castiel!” Dean returns in a mocking tone.

“Dad, let me go, Emma’s getting away!”

“Fine, fine- just don’t kill each other!” Lydia shoots Dean a lot from across the yard and he shrugs his shoulders. She rolls her eyes before moving away.

“I still can’t believe she let you get away with that name,” Sam says softly.

“She got dibs on the first baby, first and middle name, so I got the second one. Castiel Jonathan is as good a name as any,” Dean says stubbornly, and Sam smiles.

“You’re right,” he says, “it really is.”

………..

That night, as Dean is tucking his son into bed, he can’t help but think of what Sam said earlier and feel he was right. Lydia was much too lenient on letting him choose their son’s name, and he wonders if perhaps it’s because she knew at the time that he needed that, to give him his name, to allow him to see him every day in someone he loved. He’s grateful that she let him name their son, and he’s grateful that his son is in his life.

“Dad?” he asks.

“Yeah, Cassie?” Dean replies.

“Will you tell me what my name means again?” Dean smiles, sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Castiel Jonathan, you are named after a very smart and very funny man. He was loving and kind, and one day I’ll tell you all about him- I’ll even show you pictures. The other man you’re named for is your grandfather, who would have loved you very much.”

“Dad?”

“Yes, Cassie?”

“Was Castiel a nice man?”

Dean looks down at his son and brushes a piece of blond hair from the boy’s forehead. His smile is watery, and his eyes are soft.

“Yeah, buddy. Castiel was a very nice man. He was one of the bravest men I knew. I think you two would have liked each other a great deal.”


End file.
